Chapter 7
The Beast King
In the heart of the Demi-Human kingdom of Elythia, the grand throne room of the demi-human Beast King reverberated with unease. Summoning his royal scribe, the Beast King issued an urgent command, "Call forth the representatives of the Elves, Dwarves, Fairies, and the Wolf Clan. A council meeting is to be convened with haste."
The scribe, laden with quill and parchment, approached the throne. Urgently, the Beast King dictated, "The appearance of the sacred Blue Ethereal Fire demands our immediate attention. Summon their representatives to attend this meeting immediately."
As the scribe dispatched the messages, the air crackled with apprehension. While the Wolf Clan nominally belonged to the Beast King's domain, their fiercely independent nature and ancient lineage commanded respect.
At the appointed hour, the Demi-Human council gathered, their faces etched with concern. The Beast King's announcement sent shockwaves through the assembly. "The humans have summoned a hero from another world," his voice boomed, "In the past when this happened the hero worked to bring peace to our world, but it was only short lived, and war broke out again. Now there is a new hero and as it has been prophesied, he has taken a Demi-Human as his mate!"
The outcry filled the grand throne room like a tempest, voices layered with disbelief and fear. Many shook their heads, unable to fathom the implications of such an alliance. "This is a betrayal!" barked a grizzled leader of the wolf clan, his long ears flicking in agitation. His raven-black hair cascaded over his shoulders like a dark waterfall. "The union of our kind with humans never bodes well! They are relentless invaders!"
"Peace, peace!" the Beast King said, raising a hand, his voice steady but authoritative. The room quieted, tension lingering like a dark cloud. "An alliance forged in love is powerful. But we must tread wisely. If this hero turns out to be an enemy, the consequences will be dire—far worse than we can imagine."
A fairy, shimmering like a fragment of a summer sky, clasped her hands and spoke up. "How do we know this hero is not merely another orchestrator of war? How can we trust a human, even one bestowed with such a title?"
At the mention of the hero's potential as a warmonger, the murmurs of worry intensified, echoing between the stone walls. The mood in the throne room was palpable—a fusion of hope and dread swirling through the gathering. For centuries, war with humans had been a constant, with battles taking heavy casualties on both sides, and the scars of past battles had yet to heal.
The Elven King's eyes glimmered with ancient wisdom. "We have foreseen this moment, Beast King," he intoned. "The Blue Ethereal Fire is a beacon of hope. It heralds an alliance between humans and Demi-Humans, a force that could unite us against a greater threat."
Murmurs of disbelief and shock filled the hall. The Wolf-kin leader snarled, "You would betray our cause?"
"No," the Elven King replied calmly, "we would forge a path toward peace, where our differences are not a source of conflict, but a source of strength. My spies in the Empire's capital have revealed that the hero's name is Preacher, and he has freed his Demi-Human companion, a Fox Beast girl named Iris."
The Beast King's heart hammered against his ribs. His entire body felt frozen, as if a cold wind had swept through him. Iris… his granddaughter. It had been nearly forty years. Forty years since his daughter, Princess Fraya, had been captured by the humans and made a slave. He had never forgotten, though the years had been filled with an aching void of uncertainty.
He had hoped, against all hope, that she was still alive. Then, the news of his daughter's death during childbirth and her daughter's birth arrived, a cruel reminder of his daughter's fate. He'd kept a watchful eye on Iris, the product of a union between his daughter and a sympathetic nobleman, a man who, despite his compassion, was powerless to influence the King. The Beast King had learned that Iris had been taken to the royal infirmary, a place where healing magic was practiced, and left to serve the mages as a mere servant.
His telepathic link with his ravens, his most trusted spies, had allowed him to see the young Iris grow up, a painful reminder of his lost daughter. He had seen the fear in her eyes, the way she would instinctively recoil whenever a human approached. However, his ravens weren't always able to keep an eye on Iris and during one such time when the ravens were gathering intel of the human armies' movements, they missed Iris's transfer of ownership from the infirmary to Preacher, the hero summoned by the humans from another world, was one of those times his ravens were not available, and he had lost track of her. The Beast King was beside himself with worry for losing track of her whereabouts and the worst-case scenarios of her treatment kept running through his mind.
But now, he knew. His granddaughter, his only link to Fraya, was with the hero, this Preacher. He had freed her, a seemingly impossible act against the cruel laws that subjugated his people.
"The hero… he calls himself Preacher," the Elven King said, his voice barely a whisper. "He is a force to be reckoned with, one that could turn the tide of our fight."
The Elven King's words were like a spark that ignited a fire within the Beast King. A wave of powerful emotions swept over him: relief, joy, anger, and a fierce, primal instinct to protect his granddaughter. He knew he couldn't remain silent any longer. He had to reach Iris, to offer her the protection and love she deserved, and to finally reunite with his daughter's bloodline.
"We must act," the Beast King declared, his voice regaining its power. "We must contact this Preacher and learn more about him. He may be the key to ending this war, the one who will bring down the Empire and reunite us with our lost loved ones."
The Elven King nodded; his eyes gleaming with a newfound hope. "We must work together, Beast King. Our kingdoms have suffered under the Empire's yoke for far too long. Together, we can end this war with this Preacher's help."
"But how?" the Beast King asked, his voice laced with urgency. "How do we find him? How do we approach him without putting Iris in danger?"
"We will use our combined resources," the Elven King responded, his voice firm. "Our network of spies, our knowledge of the Empire's inner workings... we will use everything at our disposal to locate Preacher and make contact."
"And what about Iris?" the Beast King pressed, his eyes filled with concern. "We must ensure her safety. We cannot afford to lose her. She is all that remains of my daughter."
"We will find a way," the Elven King assured him, his voice filled with empathy. "Together, we will find a way to protect her and bring her home."
As the representatives formulated their plan, a cold wind swept through the forest. The leaves rustled, carrying with them the whispers of hope and a promise of a future where the Beast King could finally hold his granddaughter in his arms, a future where the cries of his people would no longer be silenced by the Empire's iron fist. The time for freedom had come, and the hero, Preacher, was at the center of it all.
"We will execute this plan and contact this Preacher as soon as possible." The Beast King commented.
Hope ignited amidst the tension, a fragile flicker against the shadows. Yet in the depths of his mind, the Beast King could not shake the feeling that this union, this hero, held darker secrets—a gentle flame so easily snuffed out by the winds of fate.
The assembly nodded, some still with grim expressions while others grasped at glimmers of optimism. Among them, however, was a figure cloaked in obscurity—a young demi-human woman, heir of an ancient lineage, the Elven Princess. Daughter of the Elven King. Her heart raced, a blend of trepidation and resolve swelling within her. She had always felt a pull toward destiny, one that had now plunged into the unknown.
"I wish to join the delegation," she suddenly declared, her voice rising above the chatter. All eyes turned to her, surprised. "If a hero is indeed connected to the Beast King's granddaughter, It may be the key to understanding his true nature."
The assembly stirred again, renewed interests sparking like flames. The Beast King, intrigued, considered her request. "And what does your father, the Elven King say?"
The Elven King looked at his daughter intently, Her stance was proud and confidant. She had spent many years studying ancient magic and combat with the bow.
"Let her go, this will be a good test of her abilities and diplomacy skills if she can convince this Preacher to return here." The Elven king replied
"Very well," he said, his tone shrewd, "I will allow it. But you must swear to exercise caution and wisdom. You represent us all."
With her heart pounding, she nodded fiercely, embracing this moment of bravery. The winds of fate had unfurled before her. Stepping into the shadows of uncertainty, she felt the faint glow of the Blue Ethereal Flame burning brightly somewhere in the distance—a flicker of hope igniting within her—and destiny awaited.
As the assembly dispersed, the weight of anticipation clung heavily to the air, like the scent of rain before a storm. The whispered conversations about the young Elven princess, Elowen, and her unexpected declaration filled the throne room as she made her way toward the Beast King. Clad in simple yet elegant garments that reflected her elven heritage, her heart raced with the possibility of what lay ahead.
"Your courage is commendable, Princess Elowen," the Beast King said, his voice a gravelly reassurance. "But do not mistake this for a mere adventure. The path you choose will be riddled with trials, and you must be prepared to face the truth of this hero."
Elowen nodded, her resolve deepening. Ever since she was a child, she had been envious of the heroes spoken of in grand tales—figures who embarked on epic quests, discovering their destinies and changing their realms forever. And now, destiny had called upon her, but it felt more daunting than she had ever imagined.
As she departed the throne room to prepare for the journey, Elowen sought solace beneath the ancient willow tree that stood tall in the castle gardens.
The moons hung high above, guardians watching over the land, illuminating the path she was destined to take. The echoes of the assembly's fervent discussions still buzzed in her mind, each word a reminder of the weight on her young shoulders.
Elowen pressed her hand against the rough bark of the willow, its age-old wisdom seeping into her. She closed her eyes, allowing the whispers of the night to envelop her. The cool breeze whispered secrets of courage and fate, urging her to listen closely to her heart. She had always known that one day, she'd play a crucial role in the realm's destiny, but she had never anticipated it would involve a union between her world and that of the humans.
The thought of the human hero sent shivers down her spine, a mixture of excitement and dread bubbling in her chest. He could be the bringer of peace—or the harbinger of war. But she had to find out. If there was any chance to avert another bloody conflict, it was worth the risk.
With a heavy sigh, Elowen turned away from the willow, her mind swirling with possibilities. She returned to her chambers, the walls lined with tapestries depicting her ancestors' triumphs. Each thread spun tales of valor and honor, lessons meant for the brave. Yet as she contemplated her lineage, a creeping doubt snaked into her thoughts. What if she failed? What if she was not strong enough to face this hero or the truth he represented?
Minutes turned into hours as she prepared, gathering supplies and armor befitting an elven princess. She selected a long, elegant cloak adorned with intricate elven motifs, its fabric shimmering faintly—not unlike the fairy who had spoken in the throne room. The more she adorned herself, the more she felt the invisible threads of fate weave around her.
The next morning, the dawn painted the skies in hues of gold and crimson, mirroring the blend of hope and anxiety in the air. The assembly reconvened, and Elowen stood before them, a bridge between the fears of her kin and the possibilities of peace. The Beast King, now a figure of reassurance, rallied them with a motivating speech about unity against looming chaos.
As the delegation readied their mounts, Elowen noticed the scrutinizing stares from the gathered crowd. Whispers trailed in her wake, curiosity and skepticism mingling like oil and water. Deep down, she felt the pressure; she was a fragile ember in the storm of this critical moment.
"Remember, we seek not only the hero," the Beast King cautioned his assembly. "But we seek understanding. Elowen will lead the way, and it is our duty to see she is protected."
With those words, Elowen mounted her steed, a sleek silver unicorn with a mane as bright as starlight, and set off with the delegation. Her heart thundered within her chest as the wind rushed past them, carrying the scents of pine and adventure.
In the fading sunlight, Emily and Lily diligently tidied their quaint little shop nestled within a narrow alleyway. As they meticulously arranged merchandise on shelves, when they heard a tapping sound echoed from the window of the back room.
Lily's gaze met Emily's, and with a silent nod from Emily, she cautiously approached the window. As she lifted it open, a sleek, black raven fluttered gracefully into the room. Its ebony feathers glistened in the dim light as it hopped onto Lily's outstretched arm.
Attached to the raven's leg was a small, parchment scroll. Lily carefully retrieved it and handed it to Emily. Her heart skipped a beat as she unfurled the message, its contents both intriguing and unsettling.
It bore the seal of the Beast King who ruled over the Demi-Human kingdom in the north. The message was brief and to the point: "I request an audience with Preacher."
Emily's brow creased with concern. Preacher was the hero summoned to the kingdom to help end the war between the Humans and Demi-Humans. He had only visited their shop a handful of times. He came to purchase clothing for his wife, Iris, and to repair her torn adventurer's outfit. But beyond those brief encounters, they knew precious little about his whereabouts.
"I don't know where Preacher is," Emily confessed, her voice heavy with worry. "He's like a shadow that drifts through town, never staying long."
Lily shared her sister's apprehension. "But we must find him," she insisted. "We cannot disappoint the Beast King. If he wants to see Preacher, there must be a reason."
Together, the sisters embarked on a desperate search for the elusive traveler. They scoured the city, seeking any hint of Preacher's presence. Finally, they heard he was staying at an inn near the castle. "I'll go to the inn to meet with Preacher. If there's any suspicion about our movements then let it fall on me." Emily said. Lily nodded in compliance and watched her sister walk off toward the inn.
As Emily approached the inn, her heart was pounding in her chest. She approached the receptionist with an air of innocence. "Is there a man called Preacher here?" she inquired.
The receptionist eyed Emily with a hint of suspicion. "What is your business with him?" she asked.
"Oh, my dear," Emily replied, "I have some new materials and wish to take some measurements of his servant." A disarming smile spread across her lips.
The receptionist's demeanor softened. "He is on the second floor, to the left, in room 204," she said. "However, Preacher is not here. He has left for the castle to meet with the King."
"Is his servant here?" Emily inquired.
"Yes, she's here." The receptionist replied.
"Then if you don't mind, I'll go up to see her, since she's the reason I'm here in the first place." The receptionist nodded and directed Emily to the staircase. Emily bowed in gratitude and made her way to the stairs. At the top, she turned left and walked down the corridor towards Preacher's room.
Reaching the threshold, she hesitated for a moment, wondering how to approach Iris, the traveler's companion. "You can come in," a voice echoed from within.
Emily, startled, entered the room. "I could see your shadow beneath the door, and I smelled your presence," Iris explained, reclining on the sofa. Her pregnant belly was only slightly noticeable.
"Yes," Emily replied, "Preacher commissioned me to take measurements for some new attire."
Iris raised her hand. "Preacher only arrived today with Princess Seraphina. He has not yet had time to visit your shop. So, what is your true purpose?" her gaze was piercing.
Emily glanced around the room. "Are we alone?" she asked cautiously.
Iris nodded. Emily approached the sofa, but Iris swiftly turned, placing her hand on the hilt of her sword. "There's no need for that," Emily said. "I bear a message from the Beast King."
Iris, her expression hardened. "What is it?" she demanded.
"The Beast King requests an audience with Preacher as soon as possible," Emily said.
"It's about time," Iris hissed, her eyes narrowed. "It has been over a month since he requested the meeting."
Emily's demeanor turned sheepish. "My apologies, Iris. I understand your frustration."
"You do understand that Preacher wanted to meet with the Beast King to get his take on this war between the Humans and Demi-Humans. Preacher's not the type of man to just take the word of one side without hearing the other."
Iris furrowed her brow, oscillating between a brewing mixture of worry and ire. She feigned calm, betraying none of her internal conflict. She recognized the looming threat of open conflict. The tension had escalated for years; skirmishes between humans and demi-humans were becoming more frequent, and whispers of an all-out war were swirling through the kingdom like a tempest.
"And yet, here we are," Iris muttered bitterly. She gestured toward the window. "Before the war spirals further out of control, Preacher needs to act. We may be sitting on the edge of a precipice."
Emily took a few steps nearer, absorbing the gravity in Iris's tone, seeing the quickening of her breath. "He has asked me to ensure the urgency of this meeting."
Iris released her grip on the hilt of her sword, relaxing the tension in her shoulders. "Very well. But if we are to meet the Beast King, it must be done carefully."
"Then, let's arrange it," Emily replied, gathering her resolve.
Iris's eyes softened slightly as she assessed the determination in Emily's posture. She knew that merely entrusting this task to someone else wouldn't suffice. "What do I need to do?" They were walking on a tightrope, and nothing could go awry.
"You must bring Preacher to the Whispering Woods," Emily said finally. "The Great Oak—"
"In the center of the grove?" Iris interjected, realizing just how significant and sacred the ground was.
"Yes," Emily affirmed, a hint of nostalgia creeping into her voice. "There, you will be shielded from prying eyes and ears. It's the perfect place for a parley. But be careful; if you're seen taking Preacher there, we might ignite a fire that we cannot extinguish."
"Leave that to me," Iris said confidently
A moment of silence ensued before Emily spoke, again her voice laced with a hint of anticipation. "Now, would you like to know what your child is going to be?"
Iris hesitated for a moment before replying, her expression filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Can you really do that? I'm barely a month along, how can you already see?"
"I can see threads of fate," Emily said softly, her fingers tracing the air as if weaving an invisible tapestry. With a gentle step, Emily approached Iris, her hand hovering over her belly. As her fingers made contact, a warm, golden glow enveloped her palm.
Time seemed to stand still as Emily's hand moved in slow, circular motions. A moment later, the golden glow intensified, casting an ethereal glow on the room.
"It's…" Emily began, her voice trembling slightly with both awe and excitement. "It's…"
Abruptly, a brilliant blue light erupted from Iris's belly, knocking Emily several feet backward. Shock and disbelief etched themselves onto her face.
"Your daughter," Emily whispered, her gaze fixed on Iris, "she has the Blue Flame. In fact, she's composed of it."
Iris's eyes widened in astonishment. "What does that mean?" Iris asked, her voice trembling. "She has the Blue Flame...?" Her words trailed off, lost in the warmth radiating from her core.
"The Blue Flame," Emily murmured, instinctively placing a hand on her own heart, feeling the connection tightening between her and the power now within Iris. "It is said to be a force that can reshape fate itself—an energy that ignites the potential within all living beings. Some even say it can alter the very fabric of reality. It's pure, raw, untamed magic. You and Preacher?" Emily asked.
Iris nodded, unable to fully comprehend the revelation. Emily had never encountered anything like this before. The Blue Flame, a legendary mystical power, taking on human form? It was an unprecedented event.
Emily's mind raced, contemplating the implications of this extraordinary discovery. The Blue Flame was both a symbol of immense power and a beacon of hope. This child, this girl was composed of its very essence, she would possess unfathomable power.
As the glow subsided, Emily approached Iris once more, her eyes filled with reverence. "Iris," she whispered, "your daughter is destined for greatness. But it is a path fraught with peril."
Iris nodded slowly, a profound understanding settling in her heart. She had always known that her child would be special because of who her father was, but this revelation surpassed anything she could have imagined.
And so, in the intimate confines of Preachers room at the inn, Iris and Emily shared a profound secret that would forever alter the destiny of both mother and daughter. "You must tell no one what you know Emily. No One, not even Preacher, I must be the one to tell him." Iris admonished Emily. Emily understood, if news of this got out, the child's life would be in danger, or it would be taken to be used as a tool by those who would seek its power for their own gain.
In the distance the deep throaty sound of a raven was heard flying away.
Princess Seraphina and Preacher had just returned from Elvenwood and Preacher wanted to stop by and see Iris before going on to the Castle. "Iris!" Preacher called out as he stepped into the room. A flash of movement caught his eye, and he spun around, only to be met with an ambush.
Iris had been practicing her stealth skills in the shadows. She sprang from behind Preacher, her camouflage spell rendering her nearly invisible. But Preacher's reflexes were unmatched. He swiftly caught her and spun her around, his laughter blending with hers.
Seraphina, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, couldn't help but smile at the playful scene unfolding before her. "So, this is the kind of environment I can expect to live in with you two."
Preacher and Iris paused, their expressions turning mischievous. They exchanged a swift glance and then simultaneously lunged at Seraphina. With a cat-like agility, she dodged Preacher's grasp, but Iris flickered into invisibility.
Unseen, she crept up on Seraphina and tackled her to the floor. A cacophony of laughter erupted as Iris and Preacher mercilessly tickled her. For several minutes, they wrestled and giggled until they collapsed onto the floor, their bodies aching with laughter.
As they lay there, panting and wiping tears from their eyes, Seraphina couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and belonging. "I hate to break this up but we really need to get to the castle to make our report." Seraphina said wistfully. Reluctantly Preacher agreed with Seraphina. "We really do have to go and make our report," He told Iris "But we will be back soon," He promised.
He held out his hand to Seraphina helping her up off the floor, a hint of seriousness crept into his eyes. "Come," he said, "I have some new magic to show you, a secret to share with you."
A wave of apprehension washed over Seraphina. But she trusted Preacher implicitly. As she placed her hand in his, her heart pounding against her ribs. Preacher whispered the word "Teleport,".
The world around them dissolved into a shimmering haze. Seraphina gasped, her vision blurring as the familiar room around them vanished. When her sight returned, she found herself standing beneath a canopy of leaves, the sunlight filtering through the branches. It was the same forest glade where they had exchanged their vows.
"Wait... what...what was that?" she whispered, her voice trembling with astonishment.
Preacher chuckled. "That was teleportation magic," he said, his eyes holding a warmth that melted the fear in her heart. "I've kept this secret from the court, to avoid their exploitation of such power. But now, as my second wife, you shall share this knowledge."
"And Iris can she also…" Seraphina trailed off.
Preacher nodded. "Yes, she can and more, that arrow that killed the wraith, it was a mithril arrow she had specially made. She shot it through a portal window. Remember through our telepathy she can hear what I hear and see what I see.
He took her hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "Close your eyes, Seraphina," he instructed, "Focus on the energy within you. Imagine the room back at the inn we just left. Channel your intent."
Seraphina closed her eyes, feeling a pulse of power race through her veins. She envisioned the room, the layout of the furniture placement and with a surge of will, she willed them back there.
The world around them dissolved once more, this time back into the room at the inn with Iris waiting for them, smiling when they arrived.
"Wonderful, isn't it?" she said. Seraphina opened her eyes, marveling at the ease with which they had traversed the distance. "Amazing," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "I can teleport too?"
Preacher smiled, his eyes twinkling with pride. "Indeed, you can," he said, "and much more." He leaned closer, his voice a whisper in her mind. " Because of our bond and the Ethereal Blue Flame, We can also use telepathy. I can see what you see, and you can see what I see as long as we are linked. We can communicate directly with our minds, there is no limit to distance. There is more, so much more, but for now, let's go make our report to the king."
He held her hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Remember," he said, his voice now serious, "we can only teleport to places we have been before. This magic cannot take us to places we've never been to. And, Seraphina, this must remain a secret. If the King or Royal Court gets wind of any of this magic, it could be very dangerous."
Seraphina felt the weight of Preacher's words settle heavily on her shoulders. Though the thrill of teleportation sparked an excitement deep within her, the caution in his voice kindled a flicker of worry. The royal court was a web of intrigue and power, where secrets could be both a weapon and a curse. She knew too well the ambitions of the nobles, the greed that could warp noble intentions into monstrous desires.
With a final squeeze of her hand, Preacher teleported them outside the castle. "It wouldn't do for us to go walking about inside the castle without anyone seeing us come in," he said with a wink.
Together, they turned towards the castle's imposing entrance, their bond strengthened by the shared knowledge of the arcane power Preacher held. As they approached the throne room, where they would deliver their report to the king, Seraphina couldn't help but smile. With Preacher by her side and the ability to teleport at their fingertips, the possibilities seemed endless. This was only the beginning of their journey, and she couldn't wait to see what adventures lay ahead.
The grand hall of the Assalyerian Palace buzzed with anticipation. The King sat upon his throne; his gaze fixed upon the two figures approaching, Princess Seraphina and Preacher.
"Your Majesty," Seraphina began, kneeling before her father as Preacher stood beside her, her voice clear and firm. "We have returned from Elvenwood, victorious. The ogre army has been vanquished; their leader slain by Preacher's hand." A murmur of approval rippled through the court. The Ogre army that had threatened the empire was defeated; this was cause for celebration.
"However," Seraphina continued, her tone shifting to one of concern, "the victory came at a cost. A new threat has emerged, creatures calling themselves Wraiths. They claim to serve a being named Morgal, and their aims remain unclear."
The court gasped. Wraiths, mythical beings of the underworld, were rarely seen in the mortal realm.
The Royal Mage Elias scoffed. "Nonsense, child. This is likely a fabrication to inflate this… commoner's importance." He cast a withering look at Preacher.
Seraphina shot back. "I saw them with my own eyes and battled them beside Preacher. We must be prepared," she declared, her gaze unwavering. "The Wraiths are powerful, and their presence indicates something far more sinister is at play."
The King nodded, his expression grave.
"And finally," Seraphina continued, her voice softening, "there is one more matter I must address." She met her father's gaze, her sapphire eyes reflecting a newfound determination. "I have taken Preacher as my husband. We have spoken the vows, and we have bonded becoming one flesh together."
The hall fell into a stunned silence. Whispers erupted like wildfire among the courtiers, a symphony of disbelief and intrigue. The King's brows knitted together as he stared at his daughter, unable to comprehend the full weight of her declaration.
"Seraphina, this is no time for such distractions!" he admonished, his voice a mix of disbelief and admonition. "You know the dangers we face! To unite with a commoner—"
"Father, he is more than a commoner," Seraphina interjected, her voice steady and resolute. "He is a hero. He fought valiantly in Elvenwood. He saved our people."
"And yet, a hero from another world brings with him the uncertainty of his own allegiance," the Royal Mage sneered, stepping forward. "What makes him worthy of our princess? He could be a harbinger of doom." His sharp, calculating eyes scrutinized Preacher, searching for a weakness to exploit.
Preacher, Wearing his long leather coat and dressed in simple clothes and his heavy boots, radiated an aura of quiet strength, stepped forward, unfazed by the hostility. "I am but a servant to the will of the one true God," he said, his voice calm and deep. "I got yanked from my world and was brought to your world at your behest, not to claim a throne but to end a war which you asked me to do for you.
"And what of the young Nobleman I was going to have you marry?" the king asked. "What do I tell his parents now that you have married Sir Michael
"Do not cling to power alone, Father," Seraphina replied, her voice rising above the murmurs of scandal that swept the hall like a summer storm. She straightened her spine, meeting the wide eyes of the courtiers with a fierce determination. "This is not just an alliance forged for politics or the continuing legacy of our bloodline. It is born out of purpose, duty, and profound love."
The king's gaze hardened as he surveyed the whispers flickering through the gathered nobles. He was the ruler here, and yet the words of his daughter had thrown him into a tempest of uncertainty. "Seraphina, you speak of love as if it can shield you from the chains of consequence. You believe this commoner's heart can protect you from the dangers lurking beyond our borders?"
Seraphina stepped closer to the throne, her face illuminated by the flickering candlelight like a celestial beacon. "Father, love is the most powerful magic of all. It breathes life into courage and fortitude. Sir Michael did not come here for a crown, but for the lives of our people… for you, Father. Elvenwood may have been saved, but our kingdom still bleeds. You've seen how the shadow of war looms near, like a silent predator ready to pounce."
The Royal Mage scoffed, arms crossed tightly over his ornate robe of woven silver, eyes like flint catching the light. "A fleeting affection will not rid us of malevolence! If he is not bound by blood, then how can we trust in his loyalty? What if, in your quest for love, we lose our kingdom to betrayal?"
Preacher shifted, his worn leather coat creaking softly as he took a step forward, drawing the ire of the nobles who regarded him with skepticism. "You misunderstand me, Elias," he began, his voice steady. "I do not demand trust without proof. I do not desire riches but for the chance to ensure peace."
The crowd, caught at a crossroads of disbelief and temptation, held its breath. His tranquil demeanor cut through the tension as he continued, "I may come from another world, but my allegiance lies with those I seek to protect. I have faced the darkness in my own world and believe me there is much, but together with Seraphina, we can craft a new destiny for yours."
"Enough!" thundered the king, slamming his fist upon the armrest of the throne. "You dare speak of unity while I am left to juggle the expectations of my court? The young nobleman awaits news of the engagement that should have sealed alliances, yet in your folly, you married a commoner!"
"Perhaps the people need a leader grounded in humanity, rather than in nobility!" Seraphina shot back. "I have chosen Sir Michael because his heart reflects ours, not fractured jewels and layered silk. You always spoke of a leader who understands the plight of our citizens; look at him! He has battled for them, bled for them. Can you not see?"
The hall, once filled with intrigue, became heavy with contemplation. Mothers whispered to their daughters, and young men shifted uneasily. Aristocrats weighed their loyalties against the tale of a foreign hero joining with their princess.
The Royal Mage clenched his jaw, his once-confident sneer faltering as he understood that the princess's resolve mirrored that of a queen—unyielding. "Even amidst this chaos, Seraphina, marriage to a commoner threatens the very fabric of our society. Our laws…"
"Will adapt as we adapt!" Seraphina shouted, igniting a spark of hope within the frightened hearts of the people. "Is that not what progress demands? To rethink and reshape our destiny? You fear change, but with my choice, we have a chance to weave a fabric of strength that transcends lineage."
The king sat still, uncertainty washing over him in waves, drowning the stubbornness that fought back against these radical ideas. He looked between his daughter, fierce and determined, and Preacher, whose quiet conviction stirred something deep within him. Perhaps the chains he feared were of his own making.
"Prove your worthiness, both of you," the king finally declared, his voice calm yet forceful. "I have three quests for you all involving the clearing of monsters in the ancient ruined cities in the north, and I shall reconsider this union. But know this, if you fail, you are out as our hero Preacher and you Seraphina will marry the young man I have chosen for you."
The hall remained in a reverent hush as Seraphina and Preacher exchanged steely glances. A ripple of tension coursed through them, awakening the solemn reality of the king's decree. Preacher merely nodded; his faith unshakeable.
"Very well, Your Majesty," he proclaimed, his voice echoing with a clarity that broke the spell of apprehension. "We shall embark on these quests, and we shall succeed."
Seraphina's heart surged with hope, echoing his words with a fierce sincerity. "We will not just fight for this love, Father. We will fight for our people, for a future free of the dark shadows of war that loom over us and answer the call for compassion and understanding."
The courtiers exchanged dubious glances, but a flicker of the king's resolve began to thaw as he observed the determined glint in his daughter's eyes. It was then that he realized his power might not alone grant him strength, but as they turned their heads toward the wider horizon, the specter of responsibility engulfed him.
"Your first quest is to rid the ruins of Eldrath of the spirits haunting the ruins and village near there. Your second task is to destroy the goblins that have settled in the ancient ruins of Marrak, and your final task is to eliminate the witch of the Shattered Vale
The halls echoed with murmurs as the king stepped down from his high throne, his well-polished armor glinting like the cold stars above. He approached the duo, the shadows of the throne casting a long silhouette over their path. "You have until the next full moon. If you succeed, I will reconsider this union; if you fail, I shall grant my daughter's hand to another."
And with that, the quest was set in motion. They gathered their supplies—a map of the northern territories, weapons forged in the ancient forges of Gonthor, and potions crafted by the wisest alchemist in the kingdom.
Preacher and Seraphina made their way back to the inn where Iris was waiting for them. Upon reaching the inn Iris swung the door open, her fiery auburn hair echoing the intensity of her spirit. "I heard everything," Iris said, confidence radiating from her. "We will leave first thing in the morning."
"Hold on, Iris," Seraphina began, caught in a swirl of concern. "This journey will be perilous."
But Iris flashed a look, a spark fierce enough to silence Seraphina instantly. "No one messes with my pack," Iris stated defiantly. "And where my pack goes, I go too. And I'm not without abilities either as you well know." Iris' eyes flashed with intensity. Then Her unyielding gaze softened slightly. "We'll have to take horses then, Seraphina said. Preacher's bike doesn't have enough room for all of us to ride on it. You two gonna be good with that?"
"Looks like we'll have to be," he replied, a hint of bemusement in his eyes.
With their plans solidified, Iris strode into the inn's restaurant. She returned shortly, a steaming platter of boar steak and fragrant tea balanced in her hands. They feasted, the flavors intoxicating, fueling their spirits with warmth and camaraderie.
That night, the three of them slept together for comfort beneath the cover of shared dreams. Preacher lay in the middle, embodying the shared strength of their trio. Seraphina snuggled up against one side, while Iris curled into the other, feeling safe in his arms.
As the early morning light broke through the windows, beams of dawn illuminating the rustic room, Preacher was the first to wake. As he started getting out of bed, both women instinctively grabbed onto him, reluctant to surrender the warmth of his body.
"Five more minutes," Iris murmured, her voice thick with sleep, her grip tightening.
"Well, my noble ladies, in the words of a famous minstrel of my world, 'We have a long way to go and a short time to get there'," he said, finally managing to extricate himself with a sly grin.
Preacher finished fastening his belt, the leather creaking softly in the stillness of the morning room.
The warmth from sharing a bed with Iris and Seraphina lingered on his chest, though he knew the day was not to be taken lightly. Outside their window, the world shifted from night's embrace into the slashes of dawn's vibrant colors, as if heralding the adventure that awaited them.