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A Tale of three Kings
Spring - Lingering Cold - 1 (Evening Mists)

Spring - Lingering Cold - 1 (Evening Mists)

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Spring - Lingering Cold - 1 (Evening Mists)

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In the land of everlasting autumn, two figures in dark cloaks emerged from the Old Way and hurried through the mists of the evening, their cowls casting deep shadows over their faces.

The outskirts of the town lay abandoned and devoid of the colourful market bustle which filled the streets during the days. At this time, all the stalls were shut, and the stores closed, the busy Tavern the only place still catering to customers. It offered clean rooms for the weary, hearty meals to the hungry, and those fleeing the crisp evening chill found warmth either at the fireplace or in the form of plenty a drink. As it was the hub of the town's nightly activities, some more nefarious engagements also took place there, yet however dubious and versed in secrecy some of the Tavern's patrons might be, the pair could not seek shelter there. Their dealings were too perilous for any kind of company, the danger of being found out too dire a menace. From nook to overhang they dashed, intent to avoid prying eyes, while a silent shadow on charcoal wings followed their every move; at the ready to warn of any possible danger impeding their way. Soon, they left the last buildings behind and used the bulk and the shadows of the first trees to hide, making their way deeper and deeper into the Vermillion Ur. The forest’s brilliant, blazing colours were invisible to the eye in the darkness of the hour, with but a few Starsparkles floating about.

At last, the pair reached their destination, relieved to have gone unnoticed, and bolted the heavy, wooden door behind them. With a wave of a slender hand, the window shutters snapped closed and with another, the fire in the hearth sprang to life. In their urgency they shrugged off their cumbersome cloaks, and with a content sigh, they drew together like magnets. Silken strands of hair mingled, their different hues as much a contrast as they complemented each other, while the two embraced with the fierce desperation of lovers’ longing fulfilled at last. When finally they parted, their faces were flushed and their breaths short.

They sat down in front of the fireplace and regarded one another with affection, yet the peaceful moment was fleeting and they had plans to forge.

“Are you certain that this is the right time to set things in motion? While I am quite aware of the opportunities presented by the recent upheaval, there might also be unforeseen dangers ahead - it is just impossible to predict certain outcomes,” the first began to voice concerns. “I would hate to see everything we worked so hard for to be in vain, just because our impatience got the better of us.”

“Fear not, for I have contingencies in place, dearest. Either way, the players are already moving, and pieces are falling into place,” the second appeased the other. “We could not remain idle even if we wanted to - which I do not. It is time.”

“So they do not suspect anything - beyond your usual thirst for the opportune moment, that is?”

“Nothing at the Gathering or during the preparations afterwards led me to believe anything else,” the second confirmed.

“It still confounds me that the Council would choose to send Goblánóir of all Dúrtharán to act as eyes and ears,” the first declined with a shake of the head. “But what the Eldersmith said might just be true, they are indeed capable of going at it unnoticed, and most of all, they present no threat to anyone.”

“Yes, but speaking of threats, we will have to keep close watch on the Crags. Their Lord seems a simple yet violent brute, but I fear this assessment to be an understatement of his capabilities,” the second cautioned. “He might just turn out to be more cunning than we surmised.”

“What caused you to think so?”

“When Council proceedings went not as he tried to steer them, he pivoted far quicker than I suspected. Turollgur are famed for their perseverance, in battle but also in every other regard. The fact that he would not persist on his view is what concerns me,” the second explained. “We are indeed fortunate that the Council selected who they did, as those Goblánóir have had to live through desperate times - consequences of yet another Turollgur Rampage. If not for this, I fear the Craglord might have just forced any emissary we sent into loyalty to him.”

“Well, let us be glad that you were able to provide the Goblánóir with wards fit to protect them, then. But what of the Dwarrungar, will they assist?” the first enquired.

“Ah, the Warden is a tough old boulder to crack, dearest,” the second one shook her head. “While his subjects share our suffering - at least to a degree, they are not willing to give up on their lands just yet. From what I can tell for now, he will be a powerful ally - yet his fear, or better to say, unwillingness to deal with High Fae might get in the way. If left to his own devices, he would mine the Depths into oblivion, without any regard for the outside world. It might just be a remnant sense of duty to his Forge Brethren that keeps him from doing so.”

“Which brings us yet again to the Eldersmith,” the first concluded.

“Indeed. I am certain he will render aid for those of my people in need. He has opened the Forge City’s gates to any and all, so he would not turn us away. But I am unwilling to subject my Volk and myself to the rule of another, benevolent as it might be. And as you know, the Thane would most certainly not stand beside us in times of war.”

“War?” the first asked with a resigned tone of voice. “Have we really reached the point where you think it unavoidable?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“After the recent Calamity and the unwillingness of the Court and the Reach to help, I am certain we will have to take matters into our own hands. I fear if we dare to speak up for our rights, war will be the only certain outcome,” the second stated, with a face grim and sombre words.

The first did not immediately answer, the brow furrowing instead while teeth ground together. “I despise that I may not remain by your side in these perilous times. You see how simple it is for us to leave your guards behind if needs must, how effortless we can breach your perimeters. What if others found out and exploited this for their own gain?”

At this, the second one laughed out loud, yet it was a bitter and mirthless sound. “What gain, dearest? We have nothing of value. Apart from a few cold rocks to satiate vanities, my people have nothing worth stealing.”

“You know full well that these are not the worries that plague me,” the first snapped, but reigned in the flaring temper in an instant, as the second’s eyes went wide with surprise. “Forgive me, my love. It is only concern for your wellbeing that leads me to be cross at your remarks.”

“Nothing to forgive, dearest, this just shows your commitment and dedication to me,” the second said in a gentle tone. “Yet, you have to overcome your emotions and stand fast, for I will need your strength in the times to come. It may be a slow decay, but my people are dying. Circumstances have to change, and soon, before there is nothing left for me to rule over.”

“Is the situation truly that grim?”

“It is. And there is nothing to be done about it. I can see the first signs of the hunger in my people and we will starve, if we remain where we are now. We will make do for now, but I will have to send the most endangered to the Forge before long,” the second replied with determination. “This is a last resort I want to avoid as long as possible - for if the Thane realizes what is happening to my Volk, there is no going back, for better or worse. I would rather not deal with Dúrtharán inserting themselves in my affairs.”

“I understand, my love,” the first nodded. “Did you bring what I asked for?”

“I did, although I do not understand the need. Would the Old Way not suffice?”

“I require them for use in emergencies. Travelling to your lands via the Way might take me too long, and as we said before, we can not predict every outcome.”

“Your thoughts do have merit,” the second agreed and handed the first a small chiselled casket. Runes adorned its surface, and it was warm to the touch. “They will hold for quite a while in this container, although every time you open it, the remainder will shorten.”

“Of course. Let us hope I will have no need for them after all,” the first said and sighed once more. “I wish everyone was as insightful as you are, my love.”

“Your visit to the Bog has not gone as you planned?”

“Och, the old crone just babbled nonsense,” the first snarled. “Nothing that I did not already know, but yet she managed to sow doubt in what I was able to predict myself.”

“How so?”

“I am unsure if it was due to her addled mind or if she was intent on messing with me, but she twisted my prediction in a way that could give it a whole new meaning.”

At this, the second perked up, as these were the exact moments one had to pay attention if plans were to succeed and ruin to be avoided. “Tell me,” the second demanded.

“As you know, I foresaw an unexpected arrival - and soon, at that,” the first answered. “But in the words of the crone, it would be the arrival of something unexpected - which could either further our goals or shatter them. Take your pick, for if we are to believe her version, my prediction is of no use to us at all, and that of the Crone even less so.”

“I’ll say,” the second pondered. “And yet, I am glad I know. Even if we are unable to prepare for this, not being completely blind to the surprises ahead might still prove useful.”

“My love, what could you possibly stand to gain from these feverish musings?”

“Flexibility of the mind and therefore ability to adapt to unforeseen events, dearest,” the second smiled. “Your predictions have proven their value time and time again, but if we wish to succeed, we must not rely too much on them. The chaos in the weave has taught us that not everything remains as it was before, which means that our best laid plans might be rendered useless from one moment to another. Best not to dwell on them, but to make do with what is available.”

“You continue to fascinate me, my love,” the first marvelled. “Your mind is a thing of beauty, it is just astounding how quick it is to recover and find new ways in the face of challenges.”

“You deem it beauty, I say it is but a sharply honed instinct for survival. While I am grateful beyond words for all your assistance, I am all that stands between my people and their complete and utter downfall. I simply can not afford to be set in my ways.”

“As long as I am not one of the aspects to be discarded in the wake of your need for adaptation, I shall never complain, my love,” the first chuckled.

“Let us hope, it will never come to that,” the second agreed with a smile that did not quite reach the eyes.

The first did not pick up on it, with thoughts wandered elsewhere. “Before we decide on our moves for the immediate future, let us enjoy ourselves for a bit. Who is to say when we might be able to do so again?”

They smiled at each other, while the rustle of feathers in the ceiling’s wooden framework suggested the departure of the trusted shadow.

For now, the two just revelled in the moment, desperate to forget about the dangers surrounding them and the mortal perils ahead.

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