The council chamber of Mistveil Forest was filled with a tense atmosphere, with each present feeling a sense of discomfort and uncertainty.

"How could such a tragedy go through me unnoticed?" The elven king asked himself as he sat down amongst his small council and the royal guards. Godric and the twins stood and listened in on their conversation, as their input regarding the matter was valued by Ithilien, now more than ever.

"We were caught off guard as well, Your Majesty. Being the nearest royal family and military presence to the Polifios, we presumed you would be the first House to report this incident to Sir Byronard and the Capital City. You are one of the few Great Houses left who has yet to answer the summons. Were you not able to receive a messenger raven?" A royal guard asked the king.

"Our scouts report that we've never received any messages," he responded. "My apologies if you were sent here because of me."

"Your Majesty, there is no need to ask for forgiveness. What we simply ask you to do now is immediately depart for the Capital City. The patriarchs and matriarchs are eagerly awaiting your presence. Please bring a member of your council along with you. If you are ready, we will be waiting at the gates." Another royal guard said as they stood, bowed, and left the room without another room.

The king was deep in thought. Godric looked at him and could instantly tell that he was troubled. He always knew that the elven king's kindness had also extended to other races.

"Anarórë, call Ranger Faelar. Tell him to meet me at the gates." Ithilien finally broke his silence. The princess bowed and immediately left the room, following his father's request. "lómë," he called out to his son. "Deep down, I feel I will not return for some time. You will rule over the kingdom in my stead while I am gone. Look after your sister, look after each other."

"...I will not let you down, Father." lómë responded.

"I know you will not." Ithilien then walked toward Godric, who still experienced trouble absorbing everything in. "Godric. I grieve for your loss. I understand this turn of events might be too much for you to grasp, but I promise you; that I will do everything in my power to help the royal court to resolve this matter. To start, I have a request."

"What is it, Your Majesty?" He asked, curious.

"Come with us to the Capital City. It has been years since I last interacted with the race of Men. I fear too much has changed, and I believe you can help me reconnect with them. Are you willing to accompany us in this matter?" Godric was taken aback.

"Your Majesty, this business is far better off without me being included. It is an honor but matters such as these are beyond my capabilities. I'll only be a liability, at best."

Ithilien laughed at his remark. "Even now, you lack faith in yourself. You are the most impressive mortal I have come across for a long while. Dare I say you are comparable to Wolfsbane himself. True, you lack his strength, skill, and wisdom, but you have his heart. That trait makes you stand out from the rest, Godric." The king responded.

Godric bowed down, appreciative of the elven king's words. "You flatter me, King Ithilien. Very well, I'll accompany you to the Capital City. I've never been there before, so I can't say I'm not a little bit excited."

"Primera's seat of power is a sight to behold. That, young one, I can assure you." He patted him on the shoulder as they walked toward the northern gates. "Now come, they are waiting for us."

It did not take them long to reach the northern gates. Godric spotted afar the three royal guards in their sleek, uniformed armor. An ordinary person would never notice it, but to the awakened ones, their presence was jarring. By his calculations, they had an innate mana pool that nearly rivaled lómë in-depth. He never saw them in combat yet, but by how they carried themselves, even Anarórë would be outclassed.

"Father," Anarórë approached them as she pulled the reins to halt the movement of a majestic, large, white stag. "Ranger-general Faelar is on his way. I have already prepared Gwedal here for the journey. Your provisions are stored here, which should be sufficient until you reach the Capital." She pointed to a leather bag strapped to the stag's side.

"I will also bring Godric with me. Meetings with the other races can be quite troublesome, and I believe he deserves this opportunity to see the world beyond." Anarórë bit her lip after those words were uttered, but stood firm.

The king approached his daughter and hugged her tight. "I am sorry, my dear--believe me, I truly am. However, with me and the Head Ranger gone, it falls up to you and your brother to look after the safety of our people." Ithilien responded as Anarórë looked at them in silence. "Do not worry, I will bring you gifts when we return."

This lit a spark in the elven princess' eyes, and Godric saw a smile appear on her face which disappeared as soon as another elf arrived on horseback.

"My king Ithilien, Your Majesties." He bowed his head. "Forgive me if I was late, I had to make sure that your weapon and ducal signet were in perfect condition." The elf got off his horse and approached the four as he slowly pulled out a ring engraved with a crescent moon, which stood as House Alastrassa and King Ithilien's symbol of authority and power.

"Thank you, Faelor." The ranger general bowed in response.

Faelor then removed an elvish longsword from his back and handed it to the king. Godric found the weapon ethereal as the king unsheathed it, admiring its round pommel. The steel glimmered in the sunlight, and its edge looked sharp enough to cut through anything.

"Would that be Stargazer?" Godric asked out of the blue.

"Why yes it is. How come you know of it?" Faelor asked, curious.

"Before we fought the monster in the caverns, Evander told me how each Great House has a marked weapon. House Huntingborne, if I recall has Heart Tamer, while House Alastrassa's would be Stargazer. However, these are not limited to the highborn, as Thrillseeker, Evander's spear, was given as a gift. He also mentioned that my twin blades are marked weapons as well."

"Your blades can indeed be called marked weapons," Anarórë stated. "They suit you, no doubt about it. However, Elmar has been...secretive to say the least when asked about the blades' origins. I confronted him after we had sparred. I asked as to why he would give a marked weapon back then. He only said that he trusted you with it. I haven't seen nor spoken with him since then."

"Now that you mention it, where is Elmar?" lómë asked as he and the council looked in the direction where the forge was located. "The forges should be awake now, yet I hear nothing."

"A mystery for another time. We should get going." A royal guard stepped in, cutting the conversation short. "My sentries have already scouted the Kings' Road and have reported that a melee ensued in Gillsberry, between hunters and the Polifio bannermen. They say Lady Tryst Huntingborne has already gone to settle the issue but is currently residing at the Whiteflower for the time being."

"Tryst...I presume that would be Lord Geoffrey's child?" Ithilien asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty. First cousin to Evander Huntingborne and the current Priestess of the Wild." The royal guard replied as he closed his eyes as if he had entered a trance. After a brief pause, he opened them again, revealing a purplish hue that emanated from his pupils. "It appears that she awaits for you there, Your Majesty. She requests that both our parties travel to the Capital together." He continued.

"It would be my honor, then. To escort a Priestess of the Wild is a rare treat. Let us be off." Ithilien looked at his children and they responded with a respectful nod, acknowledging their responsibilities as the legacy and future of their House and heritage.

Godric approached the twins to bid his farewells. Anarórë hugged him tight as soon as he was within speaking range.

"Stay safe." She whispered in his ear. Godric looked deep into her gray eyes, which somehow in a way, shone brighter than her twin brother's.

"I'll try to do so--you know me." This made the elf push him back in playful annoyance. "Take care, Anarórë." The incumbent ruler of Mistveil Forest then approached the two.

"We will miss you, Godric." lómë reached out, offering a handshake. "Wonders beyond our forests might tempt you to go to faraway places, but remember; you are always welcome here." Godric as always, accepted it as it was his way to show lómë how much he trusted the prince.

"I'll be back, I promise," Godric said. "Oh I have no doubt about that my friend, but somehow I feel like you might come back an entirely different person." lómë responded.

"Heh. We'll see. Goodbye, for now, you two. Take care." he said as he saddled himself on the spare horse bought in by Faelar.

"We'll have to make haste, Your Majesty. I trust your time spent in Mistveil Forest has not dwindled your capabilities?" A royal guard asked the king. Ithilien laughed at the question as if it were a jest after he had finished wearing his riding gloves.

"Do not mistake my gentle demeanor for weakness, good sir. Hyah!" The king immediately grabbed the reins and signaled his stag to run as fast as they could. To everyone's surprise, the monarch of House Alastrassa was already almost near the edge where the path turned toward the direction of Gillsberry. Under the cover of the large Adhirala trees, he moved like a blur--as if he merged with the forest itself.

Without hesitation, the rest of the party followed suit, desperate to keep up with the elven king. The wind blew through their hair as the autumn leaves fell from the Adhirala trees which decorated the pathway in various shades of color.

"You just had to go and say it!" A royal guard shouted as they raced through the trees, annoyed at his sworn brother-in-arms.

"What? Weren't you the one who told us you wanted to see the elven king in action?!" He shot back, laughing.

"I meant in combat, you fool. The captain will kill us three if he sees the elven king left unattended and ahead of his assigned guards."

As they bantered, Faelar laughed at the conversation the guards exchanged with one another. "Rest easy, good sirs. As far as I know, only a handful of mortals alive at this time can provide our king with a challenge. To face him in open combat would be folly." The ranger-general chimed in, his tone held a mixture of pride and awe.

"Apart from his kind-heartedness and generosity, he is revered by our warriors as the Blade of the Moon. I stand as witness to his skill, for I was there during the dawn of the world when the first vestiges of the elven kind had stepped foot on mortal plains. No one can match him, I assure you of that."

"Perhaps Sir Byronard could take him on," a royal guard responded. "After all, he is remarked in our history as the greatest swordsman that the realm of Men has ever known. Even his deeds and reputation have reached faraway places such as Dryharbor Bay and Snakecliff."

"Aye, that would be a sight I would pay for. Maybe we could persuade Sir Byronard into..." The other began to speak but was cut off after his helm was struck by a twig thrown by his fellow royal guard.

"Don't even think about it. Let's focus first on catching up with the king." The royal guard cut his companion off, already aware of his intention.

A few days later, the company found themselves already at the King's Road. They spotted the elven king lying comfortably on the grass, admiring the clouds as Gwedal, his stag, slept soundly nearby.

"Oh good, you've arrived." He spoke as he stood up to meet with the party. "Forgive me if I went on ahead. It has been quite some time since I stepped outside my lands. Mistveil Forest may have its charms, but the skies are clearer and vibrant here. I had forgotten how liberating it felt. Now I understand my daughter's urges to journey outside." Ithilien then called his stag, who quickly rose and approached his side.

"We are making good progress, Your Majesty. Gillsberry is only minutes away from here." A royal guard said.

"Very well. Let us not keep Lady Huntingborne waiting."

True enough, mere minutes later they found themselves in Gillsberry where the locals were busy repairing damages to their hometown. Godric was only away for nearly two fortnights, but it was barely recognizable after looking at the state the place was in. The young and old helped each other restore the place to where it once was--there were even hunters whom Godric recognized who aided the locals by carrying the needed stone and lumber.

They then saw the Whiteflower in all its glory. A few windows were smashed, dented pieces of armor and broken wood were scattered all around, and the smell of ash filled the air as they approached, but the establishment still looked as impressive as Godric remembered it to be. At the entranceway stood another member of the royal guard, who appeared to block the entrance.

"You've arrived. Good. Lady Huntingborne is waiting inside." He said to his brothers-in-arms as he approached the elven king. "Your Majesty, it is an honor to meet you. I hope my companions escorted you here without finding any trouble along the way."

"Of course not, they did a splendid job in ensuring my safety." The king smiled as the three guards looked at each other nervously while Faelar and Godric looked at each other with wry smiles.

"Demetrius, Malachi, prepare our horses for travel. They're in the stables being tended to by Nathaniel." He ordered the two guards from earlier who discussed seeing the elven king and Sir Byronard in combat. "We're on it." They bowed respectfully at Ithilien before leaving for the stables.

"Please come inside, the three of you. The lady would like to have a word with you first before departing. Zakum, take my place and stop anyone from entering unannounced." The royal guard said. "Understood, Captain." Zakum then stood to guard the establishment, replacing him as the captain opened the doors.

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The three of them dismounted from their rides and entered the Whiteflower. Godric looked at the interior and saw that the inside was a mess. Chairs were scattered, tables were turned upside down and damages were present on the wooden railings. In the center of it all was a table and several chairs left untouched amidst the chaos. In one of the chairs sat a young woman with wavy, warm brown hair as beautiful as the autumn season. She had fair skin and eyes as black as the darkest night. They screamed with the unbridled intensity of the wild, and yet, the serene gentleness of nature. Godric held no doubt that this was indeed Lady Tryst, the current head of House Huntingborne.

"Your Majesty." Lady Tryst stood up and smiled as she approached and held Ithilien's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet the esteemed king of Mistveil Forest. Please visit Stagvalley sometime in the future. We promise to provide you the best my family and people can offer."

"I will consider your kind offer, Lady Tryst," Ithilien responded. "How fares your father and people these days?"

"He's doing considerably well for his age. Also, the elvish medicinal techniques given centuries ago have helped him with his injuries and countless others. On behalf of my ancestors, you have my gratitude."

"The pleasure is mine, my lady. It was a fair exchange of culture and a token of appreciation. Your forefathers would be proud to see that the Huntingborne blood still runs strong through a talented prodigy like yourself." Tryst felt a wave of happiness wash over her because of the elven king's words, which made her smile even more.

"Oh, before I forget--Uncle Petyr?" she called. Afterward, Petyr, who Godric knew as the innkeeper stepped out of his room, yawning with an exhausted look. "Tryst, I thought I told you to warn me before you go and cast your sleeping magic--" he stopped after Ithilien, the royal guard, Faelar, and Godric stared at him with confused looks.

"Oh, where are my manners? I wasn't expecting more guests after the recent happenings." He tidied himself and fixed his posture. "King Ithilien. It has been years." He bowed down to the great elven king. "Your presence alone blesses my humble establishment, Your Majesty." Ithilien laughed at his demeanor.

"After all these years, you are still the same Petyr," he said to the innkeeper. "I could say the same as well, Your Majesty. Tell me: might there be a secret on how you still keep your youthful appearance despite thousands of lifetimes?"

"A good night's rest is the answer, paired with the blessing of eternal youth gifted by the old gods." The two of them laughed at the king's jest. Godric found the scene surreal as apart from him, he had never seen how other races would interact with one another.

Petyr looked behind Ithilien and saw Faelar. "You must be the Ranger-General of Mistveil Forest?" Faelar nodded. "Good. From what I've heard, the other heads are confused and anxious regarding this incident." He looked past Faelar and saw a familiar face in Godric.

"What in the--well lad! Nice to see you back so soon! Unfortunately, the inn's closed. How in the seven hells did you even get in here?" Petyr asked in a nervous tone, thinking that he might have said too much. Ithilien walked toward Godric and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Worry not, Petyr. This young one is with us. There is no need to hide anything from Godric. He is an honorary member of my council. Also, he's an awakened being, and a curious case at that as well." Ithilien reassured the innkeeper.

"An awakened being?" Tryst stood up from her chair and asked. "From what house do you hail from, Godric?"

"I don't know, milady. I'm an orphan and was raised in Rosetown under the care of the farmworkers. I never even knew magic had existed until I entered Mistveil Forest by accident." Godric explained to everyone present in the great hall.

"Well then, you are full of surprises, aren't you?" Petyr said as he crossed his arms and smiled. "My gut instinct was right. I knew you were special after you cured the affliction that had affected my body."

"You knew?" Godric asked. "Of course I did, lad. I may be old, but I'm a hunter through and through. No one sneaks up on me, whether I'm sleeping or wide awake. Coraline gave you quite the slap, didn't she? Shame on you, lad. You should've been truthful from the start." Petyr said as Godric bowed his head down in embarrassment.

"Coraline? The heir to House Applewood?" Tryst asked to which Petyr responded with a smile. "Well, well. A man of many talents indeed. An awakened being of unknown origin, a member of the elven king's council, and a person who seems to have caught the eye of a fine and proper lady." Tryst teased Godric as his face turned red, flustered by her words.

"That reminds me. Coraline, where is she now?" Godric asked, remembering his promise to visit her from time to time.

"Well, she left hours ago. She's most likely at the Capital City already." Petyr answered. This caught Godric off guard, as he was not expecting Coraline to be heading to the Capital.

Ithilien looked at him with a confused look on his face. "Forgive me, if I am not mistaken, House Applewood is a vassal house, sworn to House Polifio. This summons is only known to a select few. Why is she there? On the way things stand, I believe House Dewblossom should be the ones who must answer the call for their missing feudal house, given their relation."

"...It's hard to explain, Your Majesty. I think you'll understand once all of you get there and see for yourselves." Petyr answered with a grim look. Godric knew something was off, and thus was given another reason to visit the Capital to understand what in the seven hells was going on.

"Let us be off then. Uncle, thank you for your hospitality." At this time, the royal guard exited the establishment to ensure their mounts were prepared. "I'll be sending my people here to help with restoring Gillsberry. Stay safe." She hugged his dear uncle tight and turned to the four of them. "Shall we, gentlemen?"

Godric and the others then mounted their rides and rode off toward the Capital City, nearly half a day away from Gillsberry when traversing the King's Road. Accompanied by the famed royal guard, it was difficult to avoid catching the attention of those who saw their party. The men and women waved and cheered while the children stared in awe at the sight of the knights they dreamed of becoming, who they knew about in stories, and the elven king, who they only thought was a product of fantasy.

They crossed the vast Huntingborne fields as the wind blew its gentle breeze, and crossed the dreaded Lichley Falls, utilizing the Sapphire Bridge constructed by the First Men. Not long after, they found themselves underneath the Twin Peak Lookout, an imposing guard tower with high walls whose main purpose was to block off the southern entrance to the Capital City. Owned by House Alderth and manned by members of its vassal houses, the only way in was through the use of a drawbridge of high quality. A voice was heard from above, and Demetrius waved his hand in response. He then signaled to lower the drawbridge, whose heavy chains began to echo throughout the area. Soon, the drawbridge was down for them to pass through.

"Don't look down," Malachi warned Godric as they traversed the drawbridge hovering over a deep ravine. It was strong and stable, but the lad let curiosity take the best of him. He dismounted and peered over the edge, seeing nothing but a bottomless pit dug as far as the eye could see. Godric immediately settled himself back on his horse and felt queasy from the sight.

"Well, I did warn you," Malachi said as Demetrius and Zakum laughed.

The party crossed the bridge and entered the human encampment that housed the lookout's inhabitants. It was filled with soldiers from different vassal houses and decorated with their respective banners, all of whom were minding their business.

"Do they know about what happened?" Tryst asked the captain of the royal guard.

"Not that I know of, my lady. However, there have been several ruling heads who've entered through this way. Accompanied by your and King Ithilien's presence, I fear rumors might have already made their way through the central lands. Houses Ilyn, Huntingborne, Hawthorne, and Alderth were the first to receive the news." The royal guard responded as the soldiers began to notice their presence.

"Sir Byronard, after receiving word about the Rosetown incident, immediately requested the summons after a sealed letter from House Browgan piqued his interest. The houses Grimguard, Davenmere, Silverkind, Coppermouth, and Blackstone were then sent messenger ravens. To this day, we are still awaiting a response from House Wintertomb. For the dwarves, House Stormguard was only able to send an emissary in place of the two heads of the Great House, as apparently, we've received word that something is stirring up the frost drakes in the northernmost regions, therefore the heads have decided to focus their attention there."

King Ithilien expressed a look of concern. "Their case is understandable. I have faced the frost drakes alongside Sindras and Vargas. If some other power is indeed tampering with the forces of nature up in the North, then their full power is needed there." He said as the captain nodded in agreement.

"Not to worry, Your Majesty. Once the summons has finished, an expedition to the north will be conducted to assist the dwarves. Sir Byronard has already seen to that." The captain reassured the elven king. "In that case, I will ask a few of my kind in the northern regions to assist them. Faelar, send a raven to House Freewood and inform them of this concern."

"Understood, my king," Faelar responded. "I shall do so while the talks are being conducted."

"Have the Abussonians been informed as well?" King Ithilien asked. "Yes, Your Majesty. King Ennoris has already been informed of this matter but has only sent an emissary. We do not know why, but Sir Byronard respects his decision because he trusts that the Abussonian king would have a good reason for doing so." Godric noticed that this flurry of events worried King Ithilien, as his expression never changed.

As they passed through the sea of bannermen and exited the encampment, they immediately traveled at full speed, hoping to reach their destination before high noon. Not long after, Godric and company finally saw the majestic, towering walls of the Capital City over the horizon. Ancient and imposing, it lived up to its reputation and was a beauty to behold, especially to those who lived beyond the central lands. Godric gazed in awe as all the stories he heard regarding the Capital were true; from the grasslands that had surrounded it, to the walls that prevented any sieges, to the majestic mountains that led to the cold north and acted as a natural defense, protecting the city's flank.

The sight that truly caught Godric's eye out of all, was the cliff that stood as the foundation for Wolfsbane Keep. It stood as a testament to the strength of men and watched over the Capital City. He noticed that it was decorated with banners of all the Great Houses. The young man's mind raced with excitement for there, inside those very walls was where Unrel Wolfsbane, the first King of Men, along with the first generation of monarchs had fashioned and created the Codex.

"I can't believe it. I'm actually in the Capital," Godric said in awe as they entered through an enormous, white gate that served as the primary entrance, guarded by only a dozen members of the royal guard, which Godric found odd.

"Rest easy, lad. We were trained at a young age to become the best. It would be wise not to underestimate us." Demetrius pointed out after he saw Godric's doubtful expression. "I meant no disrespect, sir. I've just, never seen a royal guard fight before." Demetrius closed his eyes after Godric's response and opened them, and a purplish hue again emanated from his pupils.

"You're in luck. It appears you won't have to wait long," he responded, leaving Godric confused. Before Godric could ask what he meant by those words, the captain signaled the group to stop, for they had already arrived at the Crothil Steps, a masterful work of craftsmanship that was a majestic twin pair of staircases engraved onto the cliff that acted as the primary way up toward Wolfsbane Keep.

There, in between the two steps stood a man wearing the sleek, royal guard armor. However, he donned a black cape that bore the sigil of a white direwolf with its fangs barred. Strapped onto his back was a longsword of impressive stature. A zweihänder, Godric recalled after he remembered his lessons with Anarórë. He radiated power and authority. Godric felt his mana seemed like it had no limit. However, despite the man's monstrous magical pressure, it had a welcoming warmth to it. Godric described it as similar to being kissed by sunlight during the first light of day.

The royal guards dismounted and approached the man in front of them. They then bowed and stood behind him in formation. The man stepped forward as Godric, Ithilien, Faelar and Tryst dismounted from their rides.

"Welcome to the Capital, King Ithilien and Lady Tryst," he said in a strong, and vibrant voice. He looked at Faelar and acknowledged his presence as if he were a friend from the past. He then looked at Godric, who stood in awe.

"It seems that we have a new face. Is it your first time here, boy?" The man asked. "Yes, it is, sir. I'm sorry, for my behavior. I've never met another human with such impressive mana control as you. You are leagues above the people I've met, including your brothers-in-arms." The words surprised the mysterious man and left the royal guards behind him smiling at the boy's naivety.

"It seems that we have an awakened being in our midst. Your technique still needs polishing, but I can see that you have potential. Interesting." He responded. "This day has been the most eventful one I've had since the civil war ended. I can't say the surprises have been all good, though."

"If I may ask, good sir, but who are you?" Godric asked.

"Ah, where are my manners?" The man approached the lad and extended his hand. "I am Sir Byronard, Sword of the Morning, Leader of the Royal Guards, and the acting Regent for the Kingdom of Primera. A pleasure to meet you, lad."