"The rulers of the Inner Fantasy change often. Assassinations, royal intrigues... A monarch can hardly keep his throne for more than a couple of decades. But still, there are a few outstanding individuals that have managed to be the heads of their countries for centuries. Such people... They are dangerous. Everything that can last for such a long time is usually dangerous, if a spark of life burns within it."

An excerpt from "On the Topic of Eternity" by Hanos Saphireblade

***

The city stood still in front of the Seventhborn, bathing in the warm sunlight piercing the skies. It softened the sharp edges of the architecture with its deeply pleasant golden color. The western horizon burned and the glorious sunset continued to prove itself one of the most beautiful that Rehlin had ever seen during his three and a half millennia of life.

The maze of streets below  him was filled with life to the brim. Thousands… No, dozens of thousands roamed them right now. Travelers, natives, non-humans – all of them mixed up and interacted, surrounded by the sharp and majestic buildings. They were more akin to palaces in their size, although none of them could compare to Rehlin's fortress. There wasn’t a bad looking edge in this city – all of the poor parts were laying beyond its massive walls. The center seemed flawless and eternal in its graceful, polished beauty.

“Truly a place worthy of being called the pearl of the Western reaches”, the High Lord of all Changelings murmured to himself.

The Seventhborn stood atop a lavish, luxurious, ancient and well-decorated balcony on the top of the city’s biggest palace. Before the ancient sorcerer rested a table full of the finest dishes and drinks available. He didn’t have the appetite to try more than just a few slices of rare, exotic fruits, but happily drank few goblets worth of expensive wines.

The Changelings was nervous. He came to this city – to the capital of one of the most influential countries in the Inner Fantasy – to seek an audience with a particular person. And in the face of this ruler – of this beast of a man – he could not show even a slight trace of disrespect. It was somewhat infuriating – he, who bore thousands of years of experience and knowledge on his shoulders, was seeking help and advice from some five-century old youngling.

No, not just some youngling. Rehlin shook his head. This wasn’t the correct way to think about this particular man.

The High Lord was waiting for more than half an hour now, but it was a wonder that he was accepted so fast in the first place. The ruler of this city… of this country… he was often too busy shaping the politics of the whole Inner Fantasy, sometimes with his mere presence at certain events. But still… He probably couldn’t just ignore Rehlin.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

The Seventhborn smiled faintly. Being the leader of all Changelings in the world made his rank significant enough to cut the waiting time… And helped to provide him with a classy dinner, too.

“You look lively as always, Rehlin.” A voice sounded from the door of the balcony as it swung wide open.

The Changeling jumped to his feet and quickly bowed to the man approaching him. He smiled at him and waved his hand.

“No need for formalities. We’re equals, Rehlin. Let’s just sit down and enjoy the dinner.”

The Seventhborn nodded and sank in his chair.

The ruler sat against him. He was widely regarded as beautiful, with his sharp gaze, well-proportioned face, masculine jaw and muscular, athletic body frame. His shoulder-length, dark brown hair fit along nicely with his trimmed, short beard. The usual gem-covered crown wasn’t resting on his head. The richly ornamented armor which he was drawn with in most of the portraits hanging around the palace was also absent. Yet, even in the simple red, long leather coat he wore, he still emanated an aura of power that felt almost supernatural. Rehlin swallowed. The High Lord probably couldn’t achieve the same effect even in the legendary battle attire of the Firstborn.

“So, Rehlin…” The man smiled warmly and poured himself a goblet of rum. “Why have you come to me?”

The Seventhborn quietly sighed and sipped from his wine before answering.

“Lord Ergael…” he began unconfidently, his gaze constantly darting between the man’s face and the silver goblet in his hand. “I’m seeking your advice and help.”

“I’ve figured out as much.” Ergael shrugged. “We’re allies after all, aren’t we? You can always ask me for help, Rehlin.”

The High Lord nodded and licked his lips before beginning to talk again.

“I have… Important news. Of the type that can shake the whole Inner Fantasy, to a degree.”

“And what would that be?”

“The First Generation of Changelings…” Rehlin’s voice was unsure and trembling. “One of them is still alive.”

Ergael’s eyes widened a little, but his face remained calm… Stone-like, even.

"Which one?" he asked in a rather grave tone.

"Farnaraen", Rehlin hissed.

Ergael nodded. His fingers were frantically tapping on the table. He reached out for his goblet and gulped it down.

"The Thirdborn... He is your ruler by law, then?"

"He is." Regret filled Rehlin's voice.

"I see..." The ruler frowned a little. "We can't let him have your throne. He is too unpredictable to have that kind of authority. But still... We need him by our side."

"I fear... that this is impossible without giving him my title", whispered the High Lord.

Ergael smirked.

"Oh, believe me, I have my ways to achieve things."

"You undoubtedly do, Lord... But he is too hideous for that, I'm afraid. He's the Thirdborn, after all." Rehlin gazed towards the city underneath him. Nothing there had changed since he began the audience with Ergael, but in this short amount of time a vague, heavy kind of despair overtook his heart.

Ergael smiled again.

"All the western parts of the Inner Fantasy bow down before me, Rehlin, and say that I'm the most powerful mage and monarch around. Farnaraen is a relic from the old times. And he is alone, if I have to guess. What can he do against me? What can he do against the Lord of Dawn?"

Rehlin smiled faintly and nodded in an unsure manner.

"Perhaps you are right, lord... Perhaps you are."