I look up at the light above my head. A floating orb of mystic energy, conjured up by some mage. My head is groggy still, but, between the hangover, the poisoning, being thrown around by an elven soldier… I feel mostly fine.

“Where am I?” I manage to say.

“Lǎnfal.” I look up at the figure from which the voice comes. A woman, an Aesid. Rare on the Silvered Coast, in Isma, rare even in Il Allad. But, at Lǎnfal…

“How did we make it to Lǎnfal? We were outside of Isma.”

“We traveled.” A new voice, this time, coming from the elf who seemingly rescued me before. “I’m glad to see that you’re awake. I don’t suppose you have a name?” He asks.

“Dovar. Name’s Dovar.”

“Well, Dovar, it’s nice to meet you.” The elf says. “My name is Lucien. This is my associate, Ølena.” I look between the two of them. He stands a head or two taller than her, though the wings which every Aesid has stretch behind her back far wider than his stance. Neither of them are warriors, though. I can tell by their physical build. Lucien, were I to guess, is a mage, though he was dressed as a soldier before. A disguise? Ølena isn’t a soldier, perhaps a doctor? “I’m certain you have lots of questions. Shall we begin?”

“I suppose, not much else to do when I’m resting in bed. Let’s start with the “why,” yeah? Why did you rescue me?” I look between the two of them again. “I was an enemy combatant, after all.”

“You seem not to know history, Dovar. We’re in Lǎnfal, do you think that we’re friends to Daurellian?” Lucien says. “I myself was present as a scout to keep track of Daurellian’s army’s movements. While the Amar scion is slated for execution in Il Allad, Daurellian ordered for the city of Isma to be brought under siege and any human nobility or church officials to be executed.”

“So, the Amar family turns themselves in, and, what, Daurellian says, ‘Fuck them,’ anyways, and has them killed?”

“It’s not quite that simple, I’m afraid. See, the Amar kid, Samir, or something, apparently had grown disillusioned with his family.”

“Wonder why.” I say, not actually wondering why.

“Anyways, turns out he was going to kill his father.” Hm? “And, then the royal guard caught him, but not before a good few of them got killed in the fight that ensued. He had help.”

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“Well, I’ll give the kid props, even if he took about ten years too long.”

“Anyways, you’re alive.” I am alive. He’s right.

“Yeah.” I’m alive.

“We’ve got an offer for you.” Ølena says, speaking for the first time since she told me where we are. “It’s your decision to make.”

“What would this offer entail?” I ask, looking back at the Aesid who had all but vanished from my peripherals.

“There exists a rogue group in Il Allad. They call themselves The Ring. They’ve been getting in our way for the better part of the past few decades. Originally mercenaries, they perpetrated a slaughter of Lotorines at Red Field, centuries after the Lotorines slaughtered Elves of their own kind there. They’ve stolen ancient relics.” Lucien begins, walking around my left flank, his voice echoing behind me as he continues. “You, as a soldier, and a human, would fit into their ranks quite easily. Their leadership, for what we know, is bent on killing Emperor Daurellian.”

“I fail to see how that’s a bad thing.” I start.

“It isn’t. However, these fools, they also have disregarded any notion of future planning. They're a ragtag group of imbeciles who think that killing Daurellian will simply cease hostilities. No, if the self-proclaimed God-Emperor, or whatever he fashions himself as now…”

“The father of a future golden child, heir of the Eleven Houses.” Ølena cuts in.

“Yes, that. The Ring, they believe that killing him will end these problems rather than exacerbate them. No, as someone who has interacted with Daurellian personally, I can assure you this is not the case.” Lucien finishes.

“Have you tried, uh, talking to them?” I find the words escaping my mouth.

“We have, a multitude of times. They find my connections to the Aesids here in Lǎnfal a liability, and don’t trust my word as I had formerly been among Daurellian’s officers before perishing in a battle.”

Perishing? “Aren’t you—”

“Still alive? Yes, I faked my death. It was quite easy, in fact, though it did come at the price of losing intelligence on Daurellian’s actions beyond what I can do as a scout.”

“So, I, what, infiltrate the Ring, and then?”

“You’re going to kill their leadership, and replace them with leaders more amenable to our understanding.”

“What, a coup? Shouldn’t we use them in their current state instead of destabilizing them?”

Lucien frowns. “No, they’re a liability now. Their idealism, their focus on immediate action. It’s not only foolish, it’s dangerous. Look at the Amar scion. His actions resulted in more interest in detracting elements of the nobility. Now, even his father is under suspicion.”

“So, this, what, coup, it’ll eventually…?”

“Prevent the imminent apocalypse.” Ølena says. Lucien nods in affirmation. “We will give you twenty-four hours.” The Aesid continues. “Feel free to walk about Lǎnfal in the meantime. We cannot allow you to leave until the decision has been made, for obvious reasons.”

“I see.” I look down at my hands. I’m tired of politics.