Merci thought about it for a moment before crawling out of the tent and joined them by what was remaining from the burning fire. She sat next to Nikalus while Octavius sat across from them. Despite only meeting them just hours ago, she felt oddly comfortable around these two.
“So, Merci is it?” Octavius questioned as she took a seat on one of the empty logs the men had pulled up.
“Yeah, Merci Darkwood.”
Octavius’s eyes narrowed as the last name escaped her lips. "Those blasted Darkwoods need to burn in the Nine Hells," he snarled. Merci watched him closely in the moonlight. His body was taut with tension; he gripped the log he was seated on with white-knuckled strength, while his other hand rested on the hilt of the weapon at his side..
“Is there something wrong with the Darkwoods?” Merci asked cautiously as she was a bit nervous to approach the subject.
“They were the reasons for war.” Octavious glared up at her, “War that killed hundreds of our people and for what? The power of our Queen?”
“Octavious… I think that is enough.” Nikalus said, “Don’t mind my brother, he's just a bit sour.”
“Say’s the one who wasn’t on the frontline.” Octavious muttered, “I saw too many good people fall. One of them was Elara.”
His stare held deep as he looked upon me with a thousand mile stare. The stare caused the veins in her body to run cold. “What… Happened?” Merci breathed out shallowly.
“Death and destruction. Our younger brother was amongst them.” Octavius said as he remained fixed on Merci.
“Pallas died taking a shot for Elara. However, Elara still died at the hands of the Darkwood’s army.”
Merci was at a loss for words, as she didn’t know how to proceed. So she just remained silent and stared back at Octavius.
“Brother, let’s not trouble her with our burdens.” Nikalus said, “I am sure the King will touch base with her on it all in time.”
Merci watched as Octavius breathed in a deep breath and watched as his shoulders relaxed, “Sorry for troubling you Merci.”
Merci rose from her seat and moved to sit beside Octavius. She wrapped him in a gentle hug and looked up at him with a soft smile. "I'm sorry for your loss and for any trouble they've caused," she said quietly.
Merci found herself leaning her head against his broad frame. She felt his gaze settle on her tousled red hair as she relaxed against him.
“Well, brother, if she wasn’t claimed by the King perhaps you two would…” Nikalus began to say but was cut off by Octavius.
“Shut it brother.” Octavius groaned in disgust.
Merci glared up at Otavius as she was able to pick up the sound in his voice. “What was that for?”
"Nothing, Merci. Just try to get some rest," Octavius said softly, beginning to whisper an incantation. As his soothing voice worked its magic, Merci's body grew heavy and relaxed against his warm, comforting presence. Her eyelids drooped, and she surrendered to the embrace of sleep.
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Merci stirred awake as the sun's rays began to playfully caress her skin through the tent’s openings. The warmth of the morning air was a welcome contrast to the chill of the previous night. As she blinked in the light, she soon realized that she was alone in the tent.
“How did I…”
Merci mumbled as she stretched against the cozy confines of the sleeping bag and blankets. Before stepping out of the tent, she removed her nightshirt and quickly donned her usual outfit: a used black shirt and matching pants.
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“Octavius and Nikalus…” Merci mumbled as she crawled out of the tent and began to search for the two brothers.
Merci sighed in relief when her eyes fell upon Nikalus, “Good morning Merci. Get enough sleep?” Nikalus asked as Merci walked over to him.
“How did I end up in the tent?” Merci questioned.
“Octavius carried you.” NIkalus said.
“Huh…” Merci fell next to Nikalus who stared out over the valley before them. “What are you watching for?” Merci asked as she glanced between the valley and Nikalus’s line of eyesight.
The valley that stretched out before them is a mesmerizing expanse of blue grass, undulating like a sea of sapphires beneath the sun. Each blade shimmered with a delicate, silvery sheen, casting an ethereal glow across the landscape. The grass swayed gently in the breeze, creating waves of shifting azure that danced and sparkled with every movement. Wildflowers in shades of violet and indigo dotted the scene, adding splashes of deeper hues to the blue canvas. The sky above, a clear and brilliant expanse, seemed to merge seamlessly with the vibrant ground below, enhancing the dreamlike quality of the valley.
“The portal to Sunne. The King should be arriving any minute now.” Nikalus said as he remained fixed on the valley.
As Merci stood next to Nikalus, Octavius fell next to his brother on the other side, “Lysander is forming the portal now. He will be here any minute.”
“Lysander?” Merci questioned as she looked past Nkalus and stared at Ocativus.
“The King of Sunne.” Octavius and Nikalus both said.
As the words left their lips, a shimmering rift of magical essence materialized in the distance. A thunderous crackling sound filled the air, and the ground trembled beneath their feet. The portal flickered and sizzled as it hung suspended, and Merci's heart raced with a surge of anticipation. Her eyes widened as a black boot began to step through the pulsating gateway.
A tall charming and well-tanned elf stepped out of the portal. He wore only a pair of trousers and a set of suspenders over his well-muscled chest. His suspenders appeared to be strapped to a pair of black tight pants with a belt that contained a glistening longsword and a pouch that hung to its side. Upon his back he wore a rather large bow that was strapped across that delicious looking chest. A chest that appeared to bore countless star-like tattoos.
She looked at him further and she noticed his ruffled brown hair that didn’t lay flat and his chocolate brown eyes that matched. His first appearance to Merci, left her thinking, that’s the King?
She didn’t mean to be rude but she couldn’t help but see a faint smile fall upon his face as the voice in her head said, “Well, hello there.”
Merci froze in her place as the man started to walk towards her and the brothers with confidence in his step. No one spoke until the man was relatively close to them. “I see you have managed to keep her safe.” The man who stepped out of the portal spoke to Nikalus.
“As promised. Safe and sound.” Nikalus said as the man walked passed the two brothers and up to Merci.
He extended his eleven hand to her and looked at her with a smile on his face, “Hello Merci, it is nice to finally meet you in person.”
She looked from his hand to his face, grappling with the familiarity of his voice. It was the same soothing yet compelling tone she had heard in her mind, but the face before her was unfamiliar. Despite her uncertainty about the face, she recalled their previous conversations and knew she could trust the voice, even if she remained cautious about trusting the person behind it.
She hesitantly took his hand and he shook hers firmly. He held onto it for a brief moment past the simple hand shake before releasing it. “Are you ready to head home?” Merci looked back towards the farm and then to the portal that glistened fifty feet in front of them.
“To the farm?” Merci asked quietly.
The man shook her head, “Remember what was shown in your dream? The kingdom known as Sunne?”
“Yeah…” Merrci whispered softly.
“That is home my dear.” The man said who looked at her concerned.
“And who are you again?” Merci questioned as the man had failed to properly introduce himself to her yet.
“I am King Lysander Ironwood of Sunne.” Lysander proudly as he introduced himself to her for the first time. “I know Nikalus and Octaivus have touched briefly on the subject.”
“Briefly, yes.” Merci responded.
“If you are ready my dear, the portal will only stay open for a short while longer.” He said as he helped out his hand one more time urging her to take it and follow them into the portal. “Please come with us.”
All three men looked upon her and waited for her before heading toward the portal. Merci had a few options: she could stay and work with a family that has tortured her over the last few months or go with a man she just physically met. Vocally she knew and trusted but the form the voice was emitted from was unfamiliar.
Taking a deep breath she hesitantly reached for the hand that was waiting for her as if she could hear the voice in her head say "Trust" and followed the three men to the shimmering portal.
“Merci Darkwood, I welcome you home. I welcome you to our kingdom of the suns. I welcome you to Sunne.” Lysander said as they stepped through the portal.