When she entered the room, he couldn’t help but admire her. She was beautiful, and the way she carried herself intrigued him. Whenever he got close to her, she made sure he knew she was not for him. This of course, only made Solanzir want her more.
Rose was tall, auburn-haired, and a member of the Ever Rose Order. She carried a leather pouch filled with bottles of a clear substance. She was never without it.
It was the same pouch of potions his wife once coveted. She offered Rose a fortune for the substance, believing it to be the fountain of youth. Dianthea was twenty years the king’s senior. After giving birth to three children and suffering two miscarriages, she was feeling her age. By the time Rose was ready to offer her the concoction, she’d died.
To make up for her mistake, Rose offered to be the king’s eyes and ears. She also gifted him with a robe composed of enchanted roses that protected and disguised the wearer. It hung in his closet, unused by him.
Rose wore a lilac-colored velvet gown with a silver cord wrapped around the waist. She nodded her head slightly, the only gesture she offered to recognize his status.
“What have you learned?” Solanzir demanded. Rose stood as straight as possible, refusing to show him any fear.
“The elves refuse an alliance with you. They remain their own people. They don’t recognize the crown.” Solanzir frowned. He had to be careful with the elves. They were the oldest people in Cintarzia, practically immortal. Their knowledge was limitless.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“And the druids?” He asked.
“The oldest of them has refused an audience with me. I shall have to try another way,” Rose replied.
“They must receive my message. They are to cease their experiments with dragons. Tell them only Draekkon can have dragons. If they defy me once more, their lands will be turned to ash.” Solanzir warned, his voice serious.
…
Deep in the forest, hidden from the world, the elf kingdom flourished. The tops of the trees served as the ceiling. The branches grew in unearthly directions to form shelters, even furniture.
The elves co-existed with the trees, training them rather than cutting them down. When the trees died, they carved practical and elaborate objects from their bones.
The glow from bioluminescent torches broke through the shade, their light composed of creatures only seen in elven lands. They had no need for fire.
Their torches provided light. Their bodies could withstand cold better than a human’s. The trees provided a sturdy fortress, warming and shielding them from the elements.
The water was the secret of their eternal youth, but it was only part of the formula. One would have to be born an elf to benefit from elven water.
Raen Rhyzidel and his daughter Elyra Rhyzidel walked towards the rooms of the elf king. They had an update from the merciless Draekkonian king now claiming the entire continent as his empire.
Elyra wore dark leggings, a gray linen shirt and a charcoal colored coat. Her black boots went up to her knees and fit her form like a glove. Her father was dressed in a similar fashion.
Neither would wear their finest clothing on such a mission. The objective was to remain unseen, unnoticed. They were taller than humans, and they had pointed ears. This was already too revealing.
They returned from a disappointing meeting with Ever Rose. The worrisome news would change nothing. Their king would bow before no one, especially a mortal blight like Solanzir.
Their meeting with Ever Rose, Solanzir’s sorceress, lover or emissary — whichever way one chose to view her — had ended in disappointment.