June 23rd, 1636, Feplan, Feplaria

The air in the meeting room felt heavy. A thick tension permeated the environment, digging deep into the hearts of everyone present. Horith leaned forward, his expression strained. His face looked as if he had aged a century in the past twenty-four hours.

“How quickly can we evacuate Eshnenas?”

The question was a difficult one. If the Arc Mage’s heinous proclamation had come as a violent jolt to the High Elves, the ‘tragedy’ that occurred mere hours later in Eshnenas was akin to a full-blown punch to the face.

“If we give the order today, at the very least, two days. This includes scuttling everything as well. We are lucky there wasn’t much there in the first place.” Another High Elf replied.

“Will the wounded slow down the evacuation?”

“We can dispatch a handful of cars and extra guns from here if it is deemed necessary. Which I think would be certain, considering the damage.”

Horith nodded, wiping the beads of sweat on his forehead. Clearly, he had been the one most rattled by the incident.

Just a few hours after the Arc Mage’s speech, a large mob of angry Dark elves had suddenly coalesced and marched towards the local High Elf Church. The last thing the High Elves expected was for the lowlifes to directly confront them, and had thus been caught off-guard. Cursing and shouting from the Dark elves was drowned out by a rain of stones and magic being hurled at the Church, causing massive damage. The situation only became worse when a High Elf fired live rounds into the crowd with his rifle, hoping to scare them away. For a brief moment, this seemed to work as the crowd scattered from fear of the ‘Divine Magic’, but it didn’t last long. The stoning resumed with even more vigour, now accompanied by frantic magic attacks, and it was only when the armoured cars arrived much later in the evening that the ordeal finally stopped. Five High Elves had been killed, and ten more were wounded.

The motivations were clear; both the lord and the people were ardent followers of both the Arc Mage and the Lady Roshia, the two people making life difficult for the High Elves right now. One could easily connect the dots and guess, with a fair degree of accuracy, how the events would have unfolded. What was not easy to guess, however, was how the information of the Arc Mage’s address travelled to Eshnenas. It was simply way too fast. Not only did the news travel so quickly, but somehow it managed to immediately inflame the population enough to cause them to attack the Church directly.

Alarm bells had been ringing inside Horith’s head for the whole day and night. He couldn’t sleep. Not until he knew what was actually afoot. There was something here at play. Someone, that they had failed to notice all this time. Who could it be? A mage with immense magic that could somehow teleport at will and magically seduce the plebians to take up arms, perhaps? No, but then there would be clear traces of magic then. Besides, there was no evidence the locals were under some spell. What was it, then?

There were no answers. There were no visible trails leading to the answers. They were all in the dark right now. It was hard for Horith to maintain his composure, and every second he didn’t have the answers he so desperately desired, it became even harder.

“Damn them Dark Elves! After all we do for them, this is how they pay back their debts.” Horith let the poison flow from his mind. The rest of the High Elves stayed silent, only being able to answer with a grim nod. After a deep breath, Horith continued. “Can we take them head on, should it come to it?”

The Elf towards whom the question was directed hesitated for a moment, before speaking. “With the walkers and the armoured cars, there is no doubt – as far as the capital is concerned, at least. The other cities, though…” the elf gulped. “As they stand right now, doubtful. We would need to send in a bit more support – “

“Doubtful? DOUBTFUL!?” Horith shouted. The elves flinched. “Our chances are ‘doubtful’ against a bunch of monkeys? That is what we’ve been reduced to?” Horith’s eyes were red from rage.

“With all due respect, sir, uh, umm” the high elf mustered a panicked response. “We’ve sent most of our armoured cars and men to the newly-discovered site. Without them, we, uh, we should expect some--”

“Difficulties? Is that your damned excuse? GODDAMNIT!” Horith slammed his fists on the table. Bright sparks of magic escaped the spot. “We have fallen so goddamn low that we’re considering our chances against poor lowlifes with sharpened sticks now! And all because some snob in his lavish office wants goddamn ‘results’. Don’t give us ammo or supplies and keep taking my ships to fucking detours, then ask me for results! Great!”

With that, Horith fell back in seat, hands clasped to his forehead. The other elves exchanged glances and decided best to not interrupt his moment of silence. The High Elf chief clearly a had lot going on in his life, and apparently had no one to open up to regarding his mental state. Maybe, then, it was best to let him calm down. It was the least they could do for their leader, they thought.

“What about those ships?” Horith spoke in a low voice.

“Uhh….pardon?”

“I said what about those ships we found!”

“Right..right, those ships,” the elf stammered, his composure shaken by Horith’s outburst. “we – uh – we have discovered some important papers regarding the ships on site. They, uh, seem to be written in the common language for the most part – as far as we can comprehend – and contain valuable information about the ships.”

“Continue.” Horith spoke in a hoarse voice, rubbing his red eyes.

The other elf pulled out a folder, and ruffling through the files, he said. “The ships are clearly far ahead in all aspects compared to any ship we know of. There are many components and machines we neither know anything about, nor can we conjecture about. Those we do know about, we only know because of the papers we found. Here.”

Horith took the files absent-mindedly as the elf continued. “This is not the complete report, as more files are being discovered as we speak. Still, we believe they are sufficient enough to paint a picture of what these ships would have--”

“Believe? Why do you believe what is sufficient and what isn’t? Where’s the full report?” Horith barked.

“..sir?” The elf looked confused. Did Horith not hear him?

“I SAID I WANT THE FULL REPORT!”

“Y-yes sir.” The elf shrank from the intensity of Horith’s fluctuating emotions.

“Continue.”

The elf cleared his throat. “According to the papers we found, these ships have two names, it would seem – ‘Osa’ and ‘Chamak’, often used interchangeably. The ships are classified as ‘missile boats’, and the entity to whom they belong to is called the ‘Indian Navy’.”

“Ousa? Chamak?” Horith repeated the words. They sounded unfamiliar. His emotions had subsided a bit, and he felt a little sober. “What is this ‘indee-yan navy’? What do we know about them? Do they have any connection to any of the 1st World nations?”

“The papers contain writings in an unknown script that match those seen in the handful of photographs of the Pravasrajya Kingdom, so they are the prime suspect. Other than that, we know nothing about them.” The elf continued as he flipped a page. “Regarding the ships, themselves, it seems they were stranded there due to ‘issues with the radar’, it seems.”

“Rey-daar?” Horith inquired.

“A sort of apparatus on board the ships. From what we could determine from the papers, it is a kind of magical rangefinder installed on the mast that uses radio waves, though we don’t know how accurate this assessment is. The papers mention two of these ‘radars’ installed on each ship, serving different purposes.”

“Get a Guide Fairy here.” Horith spoke.

The other elves looked at each other’s faces in hesitation, before one of them got up and quietly walked out of the meeting room. He returned shortly, with another person in tow. It was a girl. He motioned to the centre of the meeting room. Meekly, the girl obeyed.

Horith threw the file at her, surprising her and the elves. Her messy silver hair swayed as she flinched, barely catching the file. The small, translucent wings on her back fluttered as she shakily opened the file.

“What was your name, again… Elva, was it?” Horith spoke. The deliriousness in his voice seemed to rise and ebb. The redness in his eyes evoked a kind of primal fear in the girl’s eyes. Her wings seemed to droop, and even through her baggy plain-white dress, one could see her shoulders slump in fear.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Read that file. I’ve got questions for you. You,” he pointed to the elf from before. “tell me more about the ships. The armament, the propulsion, what does it use this rey-daar for. Everything.”

The elf nodded. “The armament is the most interesting part of the ship. The papers we’ve found detail the methods of maintenance and repair of said weapons, but not the kind of materials and ingredients needed for the same. The weapons themselves are remarkable. If the papers are believed,” the elf paused, then continued. “then these weapons are a sort of semi-intelligent entities that can engage any and all suitable targets the ship’s crew designates.”

Horith’s emotions dipped as the words entered his ears. “Hmmm? ‘Semi-intelligent’, you say?”

“T-that would be correct. The gun mounts lack any internal space for a crew, as suspected. The ‘missiles’ mentioned here are described as potent ship-killing weapons. Their method of operation involves flying into the sky from the ‘launch tubes’ on the sides of the superstructure – the strangely-placed torpedo-tubes we identified earlier – and flying into the enemy, and detonating a large explosive warhead. Both of these weapons, according to the papers, are aimed and fired by these ‘radars’, it would seem. It awards these weapons with exceptional accuracy and range, to say nothing of the individual firepower of the weapons themselves.”

“Were there any traces of a Guide Fairy in them? Any magic?” Horith asked.

The elf thought for a moment. The idea seemed absurd, but it was what it was. Nothing he could do other than present the facts truthfully to his superior, especially when said superior was not in the best of moods.

“Unfortunately, no sir. We have found not a trace of magic in those ships. The ships do not seem to have any place where they could out a Guide Fairy either.”

“Hmmm.”

“However,” the elf continued. “the aforementioned weapons – the missiles, I mean – are sufficiently large, and unlike regular aircraft, lack any propellors or anything that resembles a regular petrol engine. The papers mention a new kind of engine – a ‘jet engine’ – located in the aft of the weapon, but all we found was a small hole leading to a tube inside, and what we think resembles a turbine. We suspect it is some form of magic-based engine actually, and that it is possible Guide Fairies may be used here as well.”

Horith turned his eyes to Elva. The girl did not fail to miss the sharpness his red eyes had acquired, and gulped audibly. Like all Guide Fairies, she was a vital part of any 1st World navy ship’s crew. Their special ‘Guide’ magic allowed them to see farther and clearer. Not only could they guide ships and see better, but they had an innate understanding of motion of objects as well, which also made them excellent rangefinders and biological fire control computers for races ‘allergic’ to modern technology. Consequently, among the 1st World countries reliant on magic, Guide Fairies were a valuable commodity. They were not common, and their villages were often isolated and disconnected from the rest of the world. No one knew where exactly they pop up, or if there was a pattern to their occurrence. It not long ago that the Fliassauans had discovered the island of Gliaca, allowing them a constant supply of Guide Fairies and regulating their prices. Otherwise, everyone had collectively accepted that the High Elves would have to make do without Guide Fairies because the Holy Navy refused to part with any of their precious Guide Fairies.

“What do you think of it, Elva?” Horith asked in a low voice.

“U-uhm,” the girl stammered. “I-I don’t know.”

“Can Guide Fairies commandeer such a weapon?”

“Uhm, uh,” Elva tried coming up with an answer, but she couldn’t. She didn’t have the time to soak in all the new information presented to her. Right now, her mind was a mess: the overwhelming fear had paralysed all rational thought, and she could think of nothing but to get out from here as quickly as possible.

“I WANT AN ANSWER NOW!” Horith screamed, and before he knew it, he was standing upright, his hand stretched out towards Elva. The latter was on the floor, screaming in pain, clutching her leg. There was something dark oozing from just below her knee, where her deceptively frail-looking hands gripped her leg shakily. Sparks of magic leaked out of his pale-white fingers, disappearing into puffs of ethereal dust.

“No! She’s a Guide Fairy! What have you done sir!” Some of the other elves in the room were already on their feet, rushing towards the stricken Guide Fairy. Even though Guide Fairies were sold and exchanged for money, they were not slaves. While their actual significance varied from place to place, they were all held in high regard by the crews of the ships they were assigned to. In most cases they were treated as the physical incarnation of the ship’s spirit itself, and any ailment or injury to the Guide Fairy was considered a bad omen for the ship by its crews. There were exceptions to this rule, too, but even in those cases ill-treatment of Guide Fairies was generally discouraged.

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Horith didn’t care, however. Guide Fairy or not, she was no High Elf. In his eyes she was not so different from the wretched lowlife Dark elves they were ‘assisting’. In fact, she was probably even conspiring together with them. Yes, Horith had already decided, she was a collaborator, a traitor. She was the one behind the attacks, and she surely knows the truth. His mind had been running in circles this entire time, and now he was unable to form a single rational thought at all. He didn’t care if the person he just struck was a Guide Fairy of the Ploaton and was here only because she needed medical care for the injuries she had sustained when the submarine had crash-dived without warning.

Horith froze. The thought of injuries and the submarine threw a bucket of icy-water on his emotions, and now he suddenly felt a lot calmer. He could see the poor Guide Fairy on the floor, still crying from the pain, along with many High Elves huddled around her, casting healing magic on her leg. Many of the High Elves were openly hurling abuses at Horith.

Ignoring them, Horith cast another spell with his outstretched finger. White sparks burst forth from his finger, and Elva’s wound quickly closed up, leaving only dirty blood splotches over a patch of newly regenerated skin. Elva’s crying subsided with a groan, and she slumped back into the arms of one of the female High Elves, panting, as a rush of relief rushed through her body and the sharp, searing pain subsided. Horith’s magic was powerful, especially if used for healing or other such regenerative purposes. It was a shame he had not taken up the occupation of a healer.

It took a while to get the situation back to normal. The whole situation had created quite a commotion, and Elva had to be once again, rushed to the doctor’s chambers. Horith had been showered with his fair share of curses for injuring the Guide Fairy of one of their precious few ships. Absolutely nobody was interested in knowing how the Ploaton’s captain would respond when – or if – he were to hear of this. Eventually, they decided they would try and sweep this under the rug, and try to convince Elva once she woke up to stay quiet.

The meeting was once again, underway. Horith was now much calmer, and silent. Everyone else was silent, preferring to speak in subdued voices instead. They were all now vocal in their disapproval of the Horith’s neurotic behaviour. But the moment had passed, and so had the window to express their vitriol. It was time to resume the act of professionalism once again, and everyone had cold water poured over their heads as the emotions simmered down quickly.

“What do you think these weapons can do?” Horith spoke up. The meeting would be going nowhere if they continued to be silent, he decided. More importantly, he wanted answers.

“The weapons, yes.” Another elf spoke up, startled. Quickly regaining his composure, he straightened his back and continued. “So, uh, the weapons. While we can say with some degree of confidence about the guns, the same cannot be said about these ‘missiles’. We have no way of determining what the actual effectiveness of such weapons would be in a real combat scenario.”

“But they exist, and two of them at that. So, somebody must have thought that there must be some merit to the idea. I am inclined to believe this is the case. Tell me, how are these weapons supposed to function?”

“The weapons are meant to launch from those oddly-shaped torpedo-tubes upwards, soar into the sky – presumably at high speeds – and hit the target just like a shell or a bullet would. Additionally, there are two kinds of missiles onboard these ships.”

“Two kinds? Why was I not informed?” Horith asked in a slightly louder tone.

“Well, uhmm, uh…” The elf darted his eyes around with a difficult expression on his face. He couldn’t just tell the chief that he was about to tell him had he not been interrupted by his sissy outburst.

“Whatever, continue. Enlighten me about this second kind of ‘mis-aaile’.”

The elf cleared his throat, hiding his insecurity. “The second kind of ‘missile’, according to the papers, is installed on the open bridge, on top of the superstructure. On the ships, however, only one of the ships seems to possess the aforementioned contraption. It resembles a musical instrument with a set of four, long tubes installed on a rotating platform on the top part. These are the ‘missile tubes’, and just like their larger cousins on the sides of the ships, hold the aforementioned ‘missiles’. However, these are different. The papers identify these as ‘Strela’ missiles, and state they were to be used for air defence.”

Something clicked inside Horith’s head. “How far can these.. ’missiles’ fly?”

“The papers mention a range of one-thousand-and-five-hundred-meters.”

“That far? Sounds outrageous.” Horith sounded genuinely surprised. Even the heaviest, and most modern of anti-air artillery batteries in the 1st World had barely half the range. And that was the maximum range, not the effective engagement range.

“These papers were about the maintenance and repair, not brochures for pitching to a customer as far as we can tell, so we assume it is the effective range, not the maximum. One line also mentioned a number of four-thousand-meters, so we can assume our assumption has some degree of accuracy.”

“Four thousand?” Horith exclaimed. His mind was busy connecting the dots and trying to build a picture. If any of this was true, then these tiny warships alone were far ahead of anything the 1st World had ever seen. “How reliable are these papers? Do the papers mention anything in this regard?”

“Unfortunately, sir, nothing is written in the papers regarding this matter. However, the papers mention that the ‘Strela’ missiles can achieve speeds of four-hundred-meters-per-second – that would be about hundred-meters-per-second more than the speed of sound. Such kinds of speed would be sufficient enough to intercept and hit almost all kinds of airplanes we know of.”

Horith’s expression soured. “If it wasn’t for the evidence in front of me, I would have shot you for spewing such a white lie to my face.”

The High Elf shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Based on what he had seen, he wasn’t sure the chief was joking. “The papers say the ‘Strela’ missile achieves this by the means of a rocket engine in the aft end of the ‘missile’ weapon – quite similar to rocket weapons that the Holy Air Force uses on their planes.”

“Hmmm…” Horith contemplated for a bit. For one, it was clear that the ships weren’t massive battleships or cruisers meant to head straight in battle, but much smaller, fast attack craft. If just these fast attack crafts had such kind of firepower, then what about the larger capital ships? Horith didn’t wish to fathom the idea of any Navy other than theirs that fielded such terrifying weapons.

“Ah yes,” Horith spoke up. “the Navy. What Navy did these ships belong to?”

The other elf looked perplexed. “The Indian Navy?”

“Yes, that. The ‘In-deeyun Navy’. Apart from the connection to the Pravasrajya Kingdom, what other links do we have to them?”

“This is the first time we’ve actually heard of their name. Actually, wait – “ The elf suddenly remembered something, then spoke up again. “The last transmissions from the Far West islands, if I remember correctly, they had conversed with the entities they call ‘demons’ occupying the islands. The ‘demons’ in question had mentioned belonging to the ‘Republic of India’, if I remember correctly.”

Horith froze as his mind processed the words and the dots began to slowly connect. Alarm bells were going off in his head now. Suddenly the threat of this mysterious, ancient enemy was right at there door, ready to barge in. Horith scanned each face in the room as he cast glance around, realizing that all these people along with him would be the first ones to be trampled when – and if – it ever came to that.

“What link does the Pravasrajya Kingdom have with this,” Horith paused as he read the name in the file. “India? Are they allies? Or sister states formed from a greater nation?”

“Like I said before, sir, we don’t know. All we know is that the Kingdom is a part of the 1st World, while this new entity is, at the very least, not officially recognized by the Ailwin-Alur Treaty. Circumstances point to the fact that they have isolationist tendencies, not so dissimilar to the Kingdom.”

“I have trouble believing it. Technology and science do not spring up in a vacuum, and even if they do, they cannot be nurtured in an isolated environment to such an extent. If they indeed have been here for a long time, then why haven’t they revealed themselves to the world? Why hide?”

“But these ships do belong to them. Maybe they did, maybe they sent an expedition, maybe these ships are all that remains of that expedition? It is possible we might find more of these ships and more of these advanced weapons around if we dig deeper.”

“That raises the question: what happened to those that set out to see this world? Surely such an expedition with all its technology and knowledge would lay the seeds of significant change in the years to come. Surely they couldn’t have just vanished to the sands of time.” Horith was contemplating deeply. The longer he thought about it, the bigger the problem seemed to become. Or perhaps he had not fully appreciated the scope of the discovery till now.

“Excuse me, sir, may I?” another elf spoke up. Horith nodded. The elf cleared his throat as he began speaking. “sir, if the theories discussed here are true – if these ships are truly part of a lost expedition – then what if these, uh, what was their name again – yes, the ‘In-deeyuns’, what if they want these ships back? What if that is the reason they took the island chain? What if that is their primary motive?”

Horith thought about it deeply. It did make enough sense “However, that still doesn’t explain their isolationist tendencies, and why they spent such a long time away from the rest of the world. And if knowing the fate of their supposedly-lost expedition was their prime motive, why only now? Why not do it hundreds of years ago?” He interjected. “Do we even know what their continent looks like? Do we even know where they are, in the first place? All we know is that they are somewhere in the west of the Far West Islands.”

“All sources and records of travellers indicate that there is nothing beyond that island chain, but many, many thousands of miles of deep ocean. None of the expeditions that passed through that area have ever returned unharmed – in fact, almost every expedition of every kind, by air or by sea, that had tried to circumvent the world or pass through that area has never come back.”

“Maybe that is it? Maybe they are the ones shooting them down to prevent leaking the knowledge of their existence?” Horith’s mind lit up. It was a plausible enough explanation.

“But would it be prudent to return the ships, should it come to that?” an elf asked.

“Hmmm.” Horith frowned as he thought. “No, we don’t. These ships, and their weapons, all are extremely valuable assets that our country needs. They could give us the edge we so desperately need to dominate all lowlifes and lesser beings – provided we can utilize them properly.”

Horith got up from his seat. “All that has been said here is to remain within the confines of these walls until I give the order. Head to the site and investigate the ships, and figure out a way to take them with us. If possible, see if their boilers still work. It would be very convenient if they do. If not, we would have to tow them out of there. Make preparations to dispatch reinforcements to Eshnenas. I want to know who was behind the assault.”

June 25th, 1636, Royal Castle, Feplan

“This shall not be accepted! What the Arc Mage has done is beyond despicable!” Horith proclaimed loudly. Only his voice seemed to resonate all around the splendid walls of the Feplarian Royal Court. None of the Dark Elves spoke a word. Queen Yaereene was as she had always been: alluring, with an aura of divinity surrounding her, and with the same scowl on her face as always. Like always, the Arc Mage looked unperturbed by the proceedings of the world around him.

“We were foolish to trust the Arc Mage with such responsibility, for it seems he is but a childish maniac incapable of gauging the true consequences of his actions! He has destroyed the trust that we had so perilously placed in your country, Your Highness!”

The rest of the elves remained silent. The aristocrats listened with a keenness that matched that of their pointed-ears, while the other High Elves wore a sour expression on their faces, openly expressing their disapproval for the Arc Mage.

“History is witness to all that we did and still do, to this day, for the Dark Elves. Yet the Dark Elves, it seems, have fallen victim to complacency and the powers of corrupting forces! They have decided to do harm to the very people who wished to drag them out of the mud and turn them into civilized elves!” Horith proclaimed. Of course, it was an act. The natives loved a good act; their small, pea-sized brains could be easily seduced and led astray by the slightest of theatrics.

Continuing his serious act, Horith said. “The High Elves feel grievously wronged by not only the Arc Mage’s actions, but by the actions of all the wretches in Eshnenas. Therefore, as a token of our generosity, we demand only the appropriate punishment be awarded to those guilty of these crimes.” Horith finished.

“And that punishment has already been delivered.” Arc Mage Onas finally spoke up.

“What?” Horith was caught off guard. “What did you say?”

“There is no need to act incredulous like that. Your lies are being uncovered, one by one. Soon the world shall see with complete clarity all your lies, and your grand farce shall come to an end.”

Audible gasps could be heard throughout the court. Many had still not recovered from the shock of the Arc Mage’s previous proclamation, and today wasn’t going to be a good day for them, it seemed. In the days since then, the situation had suddenly turned upside down. There was now clear and widespread discontent against the High Elves spreading throughout the general population. Where once speaking anything even mildly negative about the High Elves, even in closed spaces, was looked down upon, now there was a new wave of open discontentment in regards to the High Elves in most parts of the country. The fire had spread overnight to the entirety of the country, and High Elves were finding it hard to control. Nothing really bad had occurred, however, so Horith had – until now – decided to pretend to not see their rapidly deteriorating image. Ignorant natives had fickle opinions guided purely by emotion and no rationality, something that was easy to manipulate and weaponize given enough time. And they had been playing that game long enough.

“By any chance, Arc Mage,” Horith began in a loud voice. “were you responsible for spreading rumours all over the country that led to the rioting in Eshnenas?”

“I did not, I need not engage in such acts to expose cowards, destiny herself shall take her course. Your time will be up soon, the Emissaries are about to return.”

“Emissaries? Hah, what nonsense do you --” Horith’s face contorted as he remembered something abruptly. “Have you gone senile, you wretched old elf? Do you still believe in that foolish old superstition?”

Arc Mage Onas laughed. “Bwahaha! It is not me, who has gone senile, young one, but you! Insufferable are those petty ones who cannot distinguish between superstition and the transcendent!”

He turned to face Queen Yaereene. Her expression was the same: as stoic as a rock. Deep, meaningful eyes stared back at him with a sense of hidden curiosity. Arc Mage gave a small nod as he continued.

“The prophecy is not a mere hoax, but a truth as natural and real as the sun and the stars. The Emissaries have already returned: children of valiant men of unmatched courage and honour that once gave us salvation!” Arc Mage raised his staff in the air as he proclaimed. “And soon, all that is false and fragile will be swept away like the insignificant twigs and pebbles on the bank of a raging river, however sure and proud they may be of their standing!”

“You….” Horith was practically gritting his teeth, but before he could say anything further, the large gates burst open. A guard was standing on the other side. From the way he was panting, it was clear he had run a long distance in an extreme hurry.

“My Queen! I bring grave news!” The guard proclaimed as he quickly knelt down. Sweat from his pointed-ears trickled down the floor, forming tiny puddles. His spear was gripped tightly in his hand, which now shook due to the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Queen Yaereene raised her hand. “Speak. Without haste.” The guard, exhaled deeply in relief at being spared from punishment for interrupting a supposedly important court proceeding, then quickly but calmly spoke.

“A ship has arrived to our port from the Far West! It is very large, far larger than what we have ever seen! The captain of the ship says he comes from a land named ‘Bharat’, and wishes to establish amiable relations with the ruler of Feplaria! Commander Thalanil immediately ordered me to deliver this news to you, My Queen!”

There was commotion in the royal court. The Far West had been taken over by the ‘demons’; there was supposed to be nothing but hell and misery beyond those islands. What, then, was the truth behind these new guests?

“What the….” Horith was speechless. This was not what he knew. He had made the connection with the Far West and the ship, but the word ‘Bharat’ was new to him. Another name of the mysterious country, perhaps? Or a misleading false name, meant to confuse and deceive? He needed to know. Either way, it was clear that these two were connected.

Queen Yaereene looked at Arc Mage Onas. Her expression remained unchanged, but the Arc Mage had stuck around long enough to properly understand the Queen’s inner thoughts. He gave a nod, then turned towards the guard.

“Prepare to greet our guests! Ensure all preparations are done in order to welcome our guests warmly!”