The young elven lad was once again sitting on a trunk of a dead tree upon a hill, holding a book with green leather cover in his pale hands, deep in thought as he took pauses in his reading. He was so young that others might think he’s yet to start speaking, but this little creature’s thirst for knowledge was no less equal to this era’s brightest scholars. He was slim and tiny, as he's yet to encounter misfortune on this bumpy road we call life, yet soon the moment of the first misfortune of his life would come.
He slowly lifted his head when he heard those familiar heavy steps of a Centurion. A silhouette of a metal puppet was walking towards him twice as tall as this lands finest ox and wide as a double doorway. He was covered in a pitch black armor, result of a work of countless engineers, forgemasters and alchemists. A work of art he admired and had many chances to dismantle, dissect and put back together. While other kids his age were playing in sand, he was busy dismantling puppets made for one thing; slaughter.
When he reached the young elven lad he knelt down, still being thrice as tall as him, and said, “Master, your father will arrive shortly, we should return,” in a deep voice. The young elven lad just nodded and closed his book and jumped off the trunk. Somehow he couldn't shake the worry inside his heart.
***
They walked downhill entering a dense pine forest. After half an hour they reached meadow and at it’s center stood a huge ancient tree that reached the skies. At the bottom of the tree stood a majestic palace built out of white marble with golden roof that reflected sparse sunlight that had chance to reach through the ancient trees crown. It was the royal palace of elves.
The young elf felt like an ant when looking at the tree, much more than usual.
The meadow was filled with shade roses, which were a variety of roses that thrived despite the lack of sunlight. They reached the palace short after, trying to avoid gaze of servants he stealthily reached his room. As for the reason he had to sneak around in his own home- his sister forbid him leaving the palace, in fear he might set fire to the forest, again, while practicing what she called 'circus tricks'. In fact that time the attempt to summon fire overlord was quite short sighted and he himself admitted his miscalculation, because he failed to properly calculate the output of the sealing array.
The other Centurions guarding the palace paid him no mind, as they just stood there on standby mode, waiting for trouble to arrive, with their purpose being only fighting and defeating any daring criminal who’d want to sneak into the royal palace, not that there were many, since only a glare from this killing machine could scare a grown man. They knew this young elf rather well, so they didn't even bat him an eye.
With his unparalleled skill he avoided every servant, despite the heavy metal puppet following him around. Every time he met someone in the hallways, they would just pretend they didn’t see him and looked outside the windows or they spontaneously started talking with each other, waiting for him to pass by. Pure skill.
Just when he was about to open the door to his room a gentle voice resounded behind him. Right as he saw the familiar figure he knew his luck has ran out. A tall, and beautiful of course, elven girl with braid white hair and ice blue eyes stared at him. She had a black robe with wide sleeves that reached half of her fore arms, standard elven cut, and silver patterns on cuffs on them and a long thin blade at her waist, compared to her height, it would be about as tall as her.
“Sneaking around again, Aris?” That was his older sister Sireia. In fact, she was about 20.
“Big sister, I was just taking a stroll around the palace,” he exclaimed, while hiding his green book behind his back.
“Aha, and what is this, dare to explain?” She raised her hand, holding his green book.
Without his realization she must’ve taken it away from him. Elves were naturally fast, but her speed was manyfold faster due to her being a spellsword. Well, she was more of a swordsman than a spellsword, but due to her using some enhancement spells and runic engraving, she could be included into the category, despite her being more of a brawn than brains.
“Ummm? I don’t know, why you’re holding my book- I mean that book which I don’t know and never saw and definitely never read,” he hurried to correct himself.
“Ohh, so you wouldn’t mind if I used this book as a kindling for my hearth, it’s been cold lately, anyways how was the weather uphill?” she retorted with a teasing smile.
Haha, it was the middle of summer silly woman.
“Sister, no please don’t burn my book- I mean don’t burn ‘that’ book, anyways, books are not for kindling fires, stop teasing me!”
“Hahaha,” she laughed and threw him the book. “I would never do such a thing, my dear bro,” she said, patting him on the head and hugging him.
“By the way, get dressed, father will arrive shortly. Some fine looking robe, ceremonial one would be the best, you know…”
“Ceremonial? I hate those they itch so much.”
“Maybe you should start practicing with swords so you could wear a comfy robe like me, if you put your mind to it you might become a knight tomorrow, haha,” she laughed at the thought.
“Those swords are too heavy for me, I already tried. Anyways I’m just three!” He exclaimed.
“And your room looks like this…,” she opened the door to his room. Books, books and books again. Looking inside, one could only see piles of books. There were few trails in the spacious room which the young elf used to get around connecting the table bed and drawer.
“What are you trying to say? I just forgot to put those I read back into the library!” He said pouting.
“I mean, are there any books in the library you haven’t read yet?” She asked surprised.
“No, I’m just rereading them, again.”
“Oh yeah, rereading again… again?!”
“Hehe…,” he smiled mischievously. “It’s just that father locked away all the interesting books away and I haven’t got the skill to break his array yet, but after I read this-”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“You mean the dangerous books about magic, alchemy and forgemastery, array making and such we managed to hide away from you, those that summon demons from hell? I remember the last time you got such a book in your hands and almost razed the forest to the ground. If I wasn’t around, gosh we’re lucky dad or grandpa didn’t find out.“
“-uh, yes those,” he forced himself to not chuckle and to look solemnly.
“Anyways, next time you try something dangerous I want to be around, because you will cause yourself trouble, who knows, you may summon another demon from the depths of hell and I will get some sparring partner, haha. Okay, go get dressed,” she said smiling mischievously.
Haha, what an absolute battle freak.
Aris chose a simple lazurite robe with golden embroidery on hemlines. The robe had wide sleeves that reached to the half of his forearms.
“I see that you’re properly dressed for once,” Sireia said with happiness plastered on her face and blushed a little. She then turned to walk to the throne room.
As for Aris, he felt violated by the looks she gave him.
***
There, they stood before a large double door made out of gilded mahogany, behind it was a spacious throne room.
“Do I have to remind you of how you should act before the patriarch?” Sireia asked young Aris.
“Uh-uh,” he replied shaking his head.
Throne room had tall ceiling and twelve large pillars made out of white clear marble with golden engravings depicting dragons in flight. A huge line of people stood between the pillars. Each house separate clothed in fancy ceremonial robes distinct for their houses- with their sigils on the chests of their robes. The whole room was enlightened by light of various colors coming through a rosette situated above the throne that was elevated twelve steps above the floor of the throne room. One could only guess what the view is from the throne. Suffice to say, one could see every look and movement in the room.
On the throne sat pleasurably an elf with his legs crossed, leaning to his side with his head rested on his hand. He had white long hair and long beard clothed in silvery armor that refracted the light coming through the rosette. A sheathed long and thin sword was hovering in air next to him.
He couldn’t help but grin when he saw little Aris and Sireia, nodding at them. Aris and Sireia knelt down and greeted the old elf, “Your Highness, we greet you!” He nodded at them once again beckoning them with his free hand to get up.
They got up and walked to the group situated the closest to the King, clothed in silver robes with golden embroidery of a dragon in flight on their chests. It was safe to say that Aris stood up like a sore thumb with his blue robe.
Moments later the door opened again and a tall elf with black armor and white hair walked into the throne room with a red robe flaring behind him sneaking a glance at Aris, frowning for but a moment. All of them guessed that the elf would stop at the foot of the steps; a place only few people dared to approach, yet that elf continued forwards stopping at the top of the steps before kneeling with his head lowered. The audience couldn’t help but gawk at the daring attitude of that person, before realizing who the man was.
As for the King, his amusement was clearly shown on his face.
“Your Highness, I’ve returned,” he said.
“Stand up, my beloved son,” he said before standing up himself and continuing, “Tell me, son, is the matter I sent you to deal with resolved?”
However the Prince kneeling with his head lowered, replied, “Your Highness, may we speak in private,” raising his head and looking at the King. King frowned and waved his hand and the audience immediately left the throne room, only Patriarchs of the houses remained behind, as they knew what was the matter at hand.
“You two, stay,” King said to Aris and Sireia just about when they were about to leave. They could feel his gaze on their backs and gulped silently.
When the rest left the throne room, the King said, “Look me in the eyes.”
However, when the Prince lifted his head, everyone came to the realization that this wasn’t indeed the Prince.
“Ho, how did you guess,” his voice was hoarse and deep, as if he smoked a pack a day for the last twenty years.
As if a mirage disappeared a man clothed in simple black robes with black hair appeared before them- his appearance was no different from a human! However before everyone could act, this man was holding a sword that appeared out of nowhere and it was already stained in blood.
Swoosh, eleven patriarchs killed just like that. Clang, his blade was stopped by the King’s blade just as it was about to sever the head of our little elf! King knew for sure, his son, the Prince was no more, he had failed his mission.
“EEEK,” Aris yelled out sending a little burst of fire towards the attacker. But his intentions weren’t to hurt the attacker, but to gain distance away from him, just as it propelled him backwards.
The King had a stern look on his face, he feared that this day would come… he knew in the depths of his heart, that it was inevitable.
“Sireia, take Aris and leave.”
However, Sireia was unresponsive and when King looked at Aris, he had bloodshot eyes, with tears coming out, silently sobbing. Indeed, his sister was slaughtered. There was no trace of her happy face anymore, she didn’t even have a chance to lift her blade. Aris felt as if someone tore a piece of his heart out. He just stood there, paralyzed in tears.
‘How did it come to this, how could he get so strong in a year?!’ King thought. No he couldn’t call himself King anymore, as a King he failed. Holding back tears, the grandfather poured his soul into the blade, to slaughter this demon.
Alas, even with countless battles he fought in the millennia long life he lived, he couldn’t beat this foe.
Aris couldn’t even catch a glimpse of their battle as it only took a breath before his grandfather fell to the ground in a puddle of blood.
Now that the throne room was quiet, he could hear the screams and cries from outside. The lush forest was now burning in flames, people were crying begging for mercy somewhere outside, beyond the palace’s walls.
Aris cried no more, his face like the winter’s coldest night, as he glared at the bloodied man that stood before him.
“Why?” He asked this demon. He needed to know, he wanted explanation, as he couldn’t understand this heinous man’s actions.
“War.”
“I swear to heaven, that I'll be the one to trap your soul into a soul gem, after I get out…” Aris said.
He then clapped his hands together, and an array appeared underneath him. Space behind him cracked and a huge tear appeared and before the man could even lift his blade Aris was already gone, leaving only pieces of charred corpse and ashes behind, the result of mana burn.
The man had a surprised look plastered all over his face, which quickly turned to amused grimace. However he was not the type to linger, as he turned and disappeared in a flash.