“Thank you for seeing me,” Myran says.

This is the first we've talked since the Elder Wood. Myran didn’t even say anything to me in the palace; he just left after Lord Erriam announced his support for my journey and committed the elven army to our cause. But later – now that I’ve had some food and am ready for bed – he comes to my room.

“Well, I appreciated what you said in the palace,” I reply. I mean what am I supposed to say anyway? Thanks for trying to kill me?

Myran shuffles his feet under my table, looking uncomfortable.

Hell, I’m feeling uncomfortable. This has got to be the most awkward conversation of my life.

He looks over to me. “I imagine you want to talk about the dryad.”

Not really!

“Yeah, we should probably talk about that,” I say.

Myran shakes his head and nearly spills his tea he’s quivering so. I sip my own beverage and ponder its mintiness.

I’ve had more tea in Elfdom than I had in the last three months on Earth.

“I’ve never experienced anything like the dryad,” he says. “It’s like she knew exactly how to get to me. How to torment me. How to abuse my weak spots.”

“Yeah,” I say again. “It was pretty awful.”

“How were you able to resist? I mean her offer to lead the husks? Give you all that power. How could you turn it down?”

It’s a good question and I don’t have an easy answer so I shrug. “I guess that’s just not who I’m supposed to be.”

Myran scoffs quietly. “Ethan, I don’t think that’s how anyone is supposed to be.”

I laugh and the mood lightens considerably. “Point taken.”

“I think that’s another thing you have over me.”

I scrunch my brows. “Being wrong?”

“No, I’m wrong a lot. You’re just willing to be corrected. I never was. Never have been. I was right so many times in a row that when I was wrong – about you, about the dryad – I couldn't see it. I refused to see it. Until it was too late.”

“Almost too late,” I correct him this time. “We’re both still here, right? The elves are still here right?”

“Yeah,” Myran says slowly. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. No thanks to me though.”

I shrug. “You helped get me to the dryad to begin with. I wouldn’t have even made it that far without you.”

Myran lifts his eyes like that’s the first time the first time the thought occurred to him.

It probably was. This guy is so mired in guilt and despair.

“I guess,” he says softly, “that is something.”

I can’t believe I’m the one making these arguments. He did try to kill me after all. But he’s coming here, repenting for his sins. Helping me with the elves. I can’t let him just get lost forever in depression. That’s a terrible place to be. I should know.

I det down my cup. “And giving up Luna – err Princess Lunestra -- you might have been the Lord yourself one day if you married her.”

Myran shakes his. “I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve the title either.” He looks at me plaintively. “Did you mean what you said? In the palace? That you’ll take me with you on your journey.”

“Of course, I say quickly, just don’t start crying in front of me. They didn’t give me any tissues in here.”

Myran settles back in his chair, composing himself. “Yes, I believe I’ve done enough of that already.”

I’m not certain if he’s being sarcastic or not but if he is joking he has the best poker face I've ever rseen.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Look, Myran, I’m going to level with you. You tried to kill me and I wanted nothing to do with you ever again. But sometimes people surprise you and given how tempted I was by the Dryad’s offer I can’t justify cutting you off because you succumbed to it. Especially after what you’ve done and said since then. That would make me… well, it wouldn’t make me much of a hero I guess.”

Myran nods slowly. This is a whole other side of him I’ve never seen before: thoughtful, considerate, attentive, helpful. I wonder if it’s his failure that brought this out, or if it had been there all along – if this was the side Luna had always seen and been attracted to.

Or maybe a little of both.

“So we're companions again,” he says tentatively.

“Companions again,” I reply enthusiastically. Some of it's forced but some it's not. If this guy has really changed then he could be a great asset and I can use all the help I can get.

“This time, Ethan. I really will follow your lead.”

“Excellent, just promise you’ll keep me from leading us all off a cliff. ‘Cause I really am making this up as I go along.”

Myran laughs. “Sometimes I feel like my whole life has been that way.”

“Me too! And every time I do make a plan it blows-up in my face.”

“Hmm.” Myran taps the table. “Perhaps plans are overrated then.”

I tip my tea cup back as if it’s a flaggard of ale. “I agree.”

The elf servant enters my room. “Sorry to disturb you Sir Ethan, but King Leo is here to see you. I explained Myran was already here, but he said it was urgent you two make a plan for the future.”

I see….

I sigh. “Alright. Send him in.”

King Leo is very enthusiastic and doesn’t seem at all bothered by Myran’s presence. According to him we’re all on the same side. And he feels better than ever about our chances of re-taking Astria. I glance at Myran and he also seems a little surprised at Leo’s anticipation of our success.

“Your Majesty,” I begin tentatively, “I appreciate your confidence but I feel like we only barely survived the Dryad. And we don’t even have the elven army yet.”

King Leo pounds the table like he’s a man half his age. “Yes, but we will have it. Once you reach the other towers we will get the support of not just Lord Erriam but the entire elven nobility. In the meantime they can rebuild. Retrain. Become even better than they were.”

“Majesty, you act like my success is a foregone conclusion.”

Leo grasps my hand. “Have faith in the Maker, Ethan. He will guide you.”

I look to Myran, hoping for some aid.

The elf looks at King Leo. “Majesty, I don’t know about the Maker, but I have as much faith in Ethan as you do, and I agree that with him: this journey will not be easy. We must go to the goblin tower in the mountains, the drawven tower in the desert, and lasty the human tower which I believe is under the direct control of the sorceress.”

The old man winks at us. “You let me take care of that last part.”

Myran and I look at each other and then back to king.

“What do you mean.” I ask.

Leo leans forward. His eyes are sparkling as strays of his thin, white hair float in the air above him. He sort of looks like a mad scientist sharing important data with his fellow lab rats.

“There is a resistance forming in Astria,” he whispers, completely unnecessarily I might add, as no one besides us is around to hear him. “Some nobles, scattered officers, peasants who are not content to merely wait as the sorceress accumulates ever more power. She will soon find out that it is one thing to conquer Astria and another thing to rule it.”

The king sits back, clearly satisfied with himself. Like that little bit of information should ease all our fears.

It does not ease mine. “Doesn’t the sorceress have an army of her own? Can’t she still wield the dark magic?”

Leo raises a finger. “Ah, but they don’t have to defeat her. Merely harass and delay. Keep her focused on internal problems while you complete your quest and the elves rebuild their army.”

I look to Myran. “Is that even possible?”

Myran smiles a little. “Possible? It’s starting to sound hopeful. The sharks have successfully played cat and mouse for years in the tall grass. No reason why you all couldn’t adopt some of their tactics – and invent a few of your own as well.”

Leo bangs the table again. “Exactly my point, Myran. And Erriam will have support here at home for his rebuilding efforts.” The king rubs his palms together. “Perhaps the tables are finally starting to turn. Perhaps we will have another chance at that horrible woman!”

We? I was barely there the first time.

It seems like Leo is really just referring to himself, though I decline to say so out loud. It seems like his regret and anger are being channeled into action, and maybe even revenge. That may be understandable but I saw Wrath of Khan and know the limits of such things.

I look at Myran who is also watching the king’s active hands.

“I just don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves, Majesty. We can’t let our desire for…justice to make us prideful or arrogant.”

Pride goeth before the fall, etc. etc.

Myran nods. “I agree with Ethan, Majesty.” He winces. “Speaking as someone who knows a little about the perils of pride.”

The king waives his hands, like he is trying to pull back some of his exuberance. “Of course. Of course. Much left still to do. Speaking of which, I am going to check on the arrangements for your journey. Make sure everything is proceeding apace. If you’ll excuse me.”

We do, and the King leaves.

“He’s a good man,” I say to Myran.

But the elf does not respond.