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Chapter 95: We Die Standing

Elijah had to confess that the elven king looked the part. He was taller than Lura by half a head, easily nearing Aleksi in height, and yet he also possessed the elven litheness. With gray eyes, and long hair bordering white and blonde, Malon carried an image of years long past those Elijah could ever reach. The intricate green-and-silver robes only facilitated the image, as the cloth looked too perfect to be real.

It looked alive, not far from Elijah’s own outfit.

“I welcome you all to the Forest of the Third Age,” the elven king announced, as Elijah got his bearings. They were in a small clearing, blue grass beneath their feet and trees towering above them. He hadn’t seen this species before, the bark was almost crystalline as it reflected light from a sun hidden by the branches. And those birds that looked down at them… those feathers were not real. “A forest forgotten by the physical world, but one that lives on in our minds nonetheless. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s magnificent,” Louis replied, Elijah thinking the same. Looking over at the royal, the prince seemed captivated by the scenery while Fade was clearly uncomfortable by their surroundings. “I was told of this place’s beauty by my predecessor, but I now see that his words didn't do it justice.”

How poetic.

Were they trapped? Elijah broadened his magical senses, trying to connect to the world around him. The crystalline forest answered repeatedly, showering him with welcomes and images of long-lost times, but there was another side that responded to his Mana. The true world, the one where they'd had their meeting.

If he pushed, he could connect to his physical body again. His back was mildly strained as he leaned forward on the chair, his tired arm held itself in place to keep touching the orb, and the duck was finally starting to notice the absence of the others.

‘What is this?’ Dawn asked, as she delved into his flesh and emerged in the forest. ‘It feels… weird.’

‘Elven magic of the strong variety,’ Elijah replied. The understanding that he could pull all three out of this mental landscape if needed brought him a sense of calm. Enough to let his shoulders relax and fully reform into the crystal forest.

“An Awakened?” Malon commented, old eyes studying the duck doing her best to settle down on Elijah’s left shoulder once again. “I was not aware of such happenings in Serenova. Have you seen such things in the young country before, Lura?”

“I have not, my liege,” the elven diplomat responded. The king simply nodded at her words, giving Elijah one final glance before letting the matter rest. “Please, sit. It would not do for guests to be forced to stand on their feet.”

The softest of pillows appeared beneath them from nowhere, and a short table materialized before Elijah could raise his head again. There were fruits he’d never seen before, complex cakes that smelled heavenly, and they each had a goblet of red liquid in front of them.

“A sweet wine, to commemorate the first of hopefully many meetings,” Malon said, raising his own goblet. When Louis mirrored it, Elijah and the others followed suit, taking a sip of the concoction.

Elijah found it a little too sweet, but the others didn’t seem to have complaints.

‘Can I try?’ Dawn asked, already doing her best to keep her balance as she walked down his arm and towards the goblet. When the elves didn’t seem offended by the act, Elijah allowed the duck to reach her target.

She scooped up a bit of the liquid with her beak, taking a few seconds to let the wine flow through her body. Elijah could see the colors changing on her feathers as the liquid passed through the plant flesh before finally reaching their destination in the very center of her body.

‘... Did you like it?’ Elijah asked, when Dawn didn’t instantly comment on the experience.

‘It’s so much in so little,’ Dawn replied. By that logic alone, Elijah expected that he would need to stop the duck from trying to consume the rest of the wine, and yet she simply stared at the swirling red liquid.

“What you’re tasting now is a very young wine,” Malon continued, bringing Elijah’s focus back onto the elves. “The fruits were plucked three decades ago, the fermentation finished just two decades ago, and the first bottling occurred last month. Barely enough time for it to breathe, and yet it’s a fine product regardless.”

“I must agree,” Louis commented, taking a second sip. “Am I to understand that you’ve found a new supplier for grapes that fit your high standards?”

“Indeed,” the elven king confirmed. “Four decades ago, the half-folk in the south revealed to us that their dungeon had started to bear the most marvelous of fruits, ones neither they nor we had seen before. The curiosity of what this meant for our future products led us to buy the next century’s worth of fruits from the half-folk, and… it had shown itself to be a stroke of luck for us, but also a curse in some ways.”

“How so?”

“The halflings are simple folk, who don’t delve into their dungeon as frequently as the other races, focusing more on their arts, crafts, and food. This has led it to develop tendencies that… increase the production of fruits that we now buy in full,” Malon explained, pausing to let their ‘predicament’ settle in. Elijah was sure that the deal that had been made was in no way a curse, no matter what they were trying to hint at. “Our breweries are already filled to their limits, and the new fruits are not able to stay in stasis for many years before their flavor starts to stray. Therefore, we need new facilities to not waste these fruits, but no open patch of land in our sphere fits our requirements.”

Try to be less obvious next time, please.

Elijah held his tongue, as he observed the different people in the meeting. Louis’ face was guarded, the prince’s own thoughts likewise kept inside, but Fade was looking at the elves with a clear lack of surprise. She didn’t act like anything offensive was soon to be said, but there was nevertheless a clear understanding of what this meant.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“I will have to be honest with you here, Louis Newell, son of Mason Newell, one of the greatest humans born in this century,” the elven king warned. “With the death of your father, Castilla will hope to finish what it started years ago. The struggles that Serenova faced will soon begin again, and this time I’m not sure you can win by your lonesome.”

Lonesome.

They weren’t directly saying they had no desire to assist if Castilla tried to invade, but it was obvious enough regardless.

“Do… Do you have a proposal to remedy this threat?” Louis asked, Elijah caught the flare in his voice that almost carried through, if the prince hadn’t paused to recenter himself.

“By itself, Serenova does not have the magical or physical power required to fight against Castilla’s forces,” Malon said bluntly. “Ethon does. While our numbers might be fewer than that of the human country, we harbor abilities greater than theirs. But… to fight against them, it would carry potential losses that we couldn’t spare for land that isn’t ours.”

Oh, you little shit.

It was weird thinking such a thing towards an elf that was much taller than Elijah and likewise five times his age at an absolute minimum, but it felt right nonetheless. Even without a stronger connection to Serenova, Elijah knew what the prince was feeling at that moment.

He could see it.

The red face and veins that were starting to show through the skin didn’t require a sharp eye to catch. Elijah was proud of Louis for not initiating his traditional chain of insults yet.

If he had, Elijah wouldn’t have blamed him either.

“Are you suggesting that Serenova should allow itself to be absorbed by Ethon?” Elijah asked, when another passing second made it clear that Louis wasn’t in a condition to talk without starting a new war.

“Aborbed? No,” the elven king denied. “A Proxy Kingdom? Yes. You will retain your titles, most of your powers and authority, and you will gain the protection of our military might. In exchange, we will have a final say on the workings of your Dungeon, we will have control of the economic agreements, and we will have some say on the construction of various industries on the western side of Serenova. A good agreement, when put against the alternative.”

To lose their heads or to have them controlled by elven strings? What exactly did the king expect as a reply? That the country that fought for freedom would allow itself to be chained to another? That they would agree to a fake image of standing tall while having to be below Ethon at every moment?

And to lose their grip around the dungeon, the symbol of what they fought for, was unacceptable by itself. Elijah knew that for a fact.

“Your proposal has been heard,” Louis was able to get out. “I will deliver it to my sister, as my position requires, but I can already tell you the answer you will receive from her.”

“And what will that be?” Malon asked.

“We would rather die on our feet than live on our knees,” the prince delivered calmly. The anger that had fueled his previous words was still there, but they were suppressed under the veil of a diplomatic tone. “If the entire point of the meeting was for Serenova to become a proxy for Ethon, I must disappoint you and tell you that it is very unlikely to happen.”

“And I must reply that I am very disappointed,” the elven king said, though there wasn’t an inkling of sadness in his voice. If anything, a mild frown seemed to be growing on the perfect face of the man. “But you humans have never been known to stray from your ways. Once given a purpose, you are prone to following through with it until your end.”

“To do anything less would be to fail,” Louis countered, eyes not wavering. It was hard to believe that the weakest person at that table could look the tallest, and yet Elijah couldn’t deny what he was seeing. “If you have another offer that you want delivered to my sister, I suggest you voice it now.”

“Such a lack of patience,” Malon commented. “But, very well. I do have another proposal, one that might be more suitable to your current attitude.

“My people are still in need of land where they can create a new brewery to facilitate the increased production of spirits, and the western edge of Serenova is perfect. With our newest generation likewise wishing to see forests outside of our own, yours would be ideal.”

“To have civilians move to Serenova on a semi-permanent basis would be troublesome, but having them directly connected to elven breweries would make it more… viable,” Louis supposed, the prince thinking it over for a minute. “What would we stand to gain from allowing such expensive wares to be created within our borders?”

“The port of Melrond is a busy place already, and the city taxes all products sold and bought in its vicinity,” Malon answered. “However, if you were to reduce the sales tax on elven bottles produced within Serenova, we could offer a commission to the country for every bottle sold. With the growing demands on our spirits, I can promise that the projected profits are very appealing.”

And from that moment, Elijah stepped outside the conversation, as the numbers and comparisons began to fly with no pause. Malon did the same not long after, Lura taking over in his place and bringing out documentation for their various production lines.

“Was the Awakening of the flower intentional?”

Elijah blinked, realizing the sudden distance between the two diplomats bickering as he sat next to the elven king beneath a crystal tree. The imaginary forest had brought them away to talk privately.

Don’t do that again.

“It was not,” Elijah replied as he felt the forest acknowledge his warning. “Dawn was an unintended result of my experimentations.”

‘And I’m the best result!’ Dawn added, though her words couldn’t be heard by the elven king. Nevertheless, Elijah had to smile at the words.

“How curious a thing,” Malon commented, gray eyes studying the golden duck. “A true awakening like this hasn’t been done by true mortals for a very long time. For it to have been unintentional… It's a poetic way to signal new beginnings, don’t you think?.”

“Perhaps,” Elijah supposed. “I can’t say much about it.”

“You will learn with time,” the elven king promised, prompting Elijah to raise an eyebrow. “Your journey is just starting, after all. You are not expected to be wise until the end.”

“The years I’ve been alive might not seem more than a blink to you, but they are about everything I get,” Elijah corrected. His journey was already close to its finale. “Not all of us have the elven heritage required to live through the ages.”

“A single elven life would never reach the length of an Age,” Malon quickly assured him. “And… while you might not carry the elven line, your string is no longer bound to the human ones either.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“That your journey is just beginning, young one,” the elven king said, before rising from his seat by the crystal tree and offering a hand to Elijah. “Give it time and you will understand.”

If not for the fact he could’ve caused a rather serious dilemma between the countries, Elijah would’ve given his opinion about the elf’s words then and there. Instead, he had to silently stand and watch while the dealings between the diplomats finished and they were returned to the real world.