Chapter 64: Allies
Ail POV
He didn’t come back to the bedchamber that night. I lay awake in the quiet darkness, watching the shifting shadows on the ceiling, but I didn’t care. His anger was irrelevant only his usefulness mattered.
The moment the pale morning light began to bleed through the heavy draperies, I pulled a dark, heavy traveling cloak over my shoulders and threw the hood up, tossing my face into shadow. I had other nations to secure.
Moving toward the desk, I pulled open the top drawer and retrieved a teleportation crystal. I took a deep, stabilizing breath. These crystals were tricky to handle especially when locating the Elf Kingdom. To bend them to your will, you had to focus your mind completely on your destination, holding a precise, mental image of the location before crushing the crystal in your bare palm.
I had already ended up in the entirely wrong locations twice before while blindly utilizing the crystals to hunt down the hidden realm of the Elves.
Elves. Elves. Elves, I kept reciting in my mind, the image of the ancient woods behind my eyelids. I squeezed my hand closed.
CRACK.
The crystal shattered into sparkling dust, a shimmering, swirling vortex light tearing open the space in front of me. Without a single moment of hesitation, I stepped through the rift. The light faded, and my boots sank softly into lush, moss-covered earth. Finally, there it was: the hidden Elf Kingdom.
The kingdom loomed before me a dizzying sanctuary of ancient, massive trees intertwined with ornate, moss-draped stone balconies, shimmering waterfalls cascading down the bark, and hundreds of warm candles illuminating the mystical wooden arches. The air was thick with the scent of pine, damp earth, and an underlying current of overwhelming, magic.
But before I could even take a single full step out of the portal’s residue, the surrounding brush erupted with movement. The air hissed as a dozen glowing spears and intricately carved bows were leveled directly at my throat and head.
I was instantly surrounded by the elven guards. They were towering, ethereal entities, every single one of them incredibly large and tall, standing at least 6’10" and above. Their sharp, pointed ears poked through long, flowing white hair like my father, their golden and green leave like clothes shifting as they held their weapons with flawless, with precision. Magic crackled at their fingertips.
"⌲⩘⫹⟢⩄⫰⩝⟢⫾⫰⌇⌭⟢⫷⫯⩔⟢⫼⩝⩘⟣ ⫴⫰⩔⟢⫾⫰⌇⌭⩘⫷⩔⟢⫹⫰⫷⩘⟢⩄⫯⫷⫴⩙⫹⫹⩘⩘⩙⟣," their leader barked, his voice sounding like the rustling of autumn leaves.
I raised my chin, my expression flat beneath my hood. "I am sorry, but I don’t quite understand your native tongue. I am here to speak directly to the King—my grandfather."
The guards traded a series of brief, confused looks, their heavy spears lowering by a fraction of an inch as they muttered among themselves in their fluid, unreadable dialect.
Suddenly, the heavy thud of hooves vibrated through the mossy ground. The guards immediately parted, bowing their tall frames as a lone figure rode up on a striking white horse.
The man drew his horse to a halt directly in front of me. He was a vision of ancient warfare, clad in heavy, moss-covered armor with a massive quiver of silver-tipped arrows strapped to his back. His long, golden eyes, white-blonde hair caught the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy, and a brilliant, glowing sword rested firmly in his hand. He towered over the landscape even before dismounting.
He looked down at me from his saddle, his sharp face hardening. "Remove your hood," he commanded.
Finally, someone I can actually understand, I thought to myself, a small, arrogant smirk touching my lips.
With a slow, deliberate movement, I raised my hands and pulled the dark fabric of my hood back, letting my features face the light. A collective wave of sharp gasps and frantic mutters rippled through the surrounding elven crowd, though I couldn’t decipher the frantic words they were whispering to one another.
The he dismounted his stallion in one fluid motion, standing tall before me, his massive height casting a long shadow over my body.
"The dark child has returned," he said, his voice laced with a thick, heavy elven accent that vibrated with deep disdain.
I narrowed my eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Why are you here?" he demanded, ignoring my question entirely as he rested the tip of his glowing blade near the dirt.
"There is a war brewing between the nations beyond your walls," I stated plainly, crossing my arms over my cloak.
"I need your people to join my forces. Help me win this war, and the South will ensure your boundaries remain untouched forever."
"No."
"Wait, I haven’t even told you the full extent of the benefits—"
"I don’t care," he interrupted coldly, his expression unyielding as stone.
"Elves do not meddle in the chaotic, short-sighted affairs of humans. Nor do we fight your trivial wars."
A sharp, mocking laugh tore from my throat. "Is that so? Yet you had an entirely son with a royal blood mage. Do you really think that this war won’t eventually find its way across your borders and affect you?"
"Do not speak of that abomination to me," he hissed, his eyes glowing a burning yellow light just like father.
"The last war never touched my people, and neither will this one."
I laughed again, the sound echoing wickedly off the mossy stone balconies above us.
"I was truly afraid you were going to say something that incredibly short-sighted. He is your own flesh and blood, you know that, right? Well... grandpa. Can I call you grandpa?"
I stepped a fraction closer, my smile turning purely feral. "If you choose not to join me, that beautiful, pristine Tree of Life that your people rely on to survive... it will dry up and die. I will personally see to it."
His jaw clenched. In a blinding blur of supernatural speed, he whipped his glowing sword upward, pointing the razor-sharp edge directly at the center of my neck. The magical steel against my skin, a hair’s breadth from drawing blood.
I didn’t flinch. I stepped straight into the blade, the cold metal pressing into my throat with zero fear.
"Go ahead," I whispered, my voice dripping with amusement. "Kill me right here. My body currently carries literal tons of concentrated poison, and this entire forest answers to my blood. I wield the absolute power of nature and death. If my heart stops, this whole valley rots with me."
The King stared into my eyes, searching for a single trace of hesitation. Finding none, he reluctantly pulled the sword back, his expression twisting into deep revulsion.
"I was tricked by that wicked witch years ago," he spoke, his voice dropping into a low rumble. "He is no son of mine, and you are absolutely no grandchild of mine. Do whatever pathetic things you must, but we will never join your cause. We fight only alongside the true Queen of all—the one born not of this world, who will bring unity back to the realms once again."
The amusement died on my face, my expression freezing into a mask of fury. "Even you are on her side? The exact same sister that started the ruin of the last war, and is starting this one?"
"You started both," the King countered, his eyes looking through me with a devastating clarity. "You hold so much deep-seated hate and pathetic jealousy inside your heart, child."
"I wonder where the hell I got that from, gramps," I sighed, clicking my tongue in annoyance. I took a step back, realizing the negotiation was entirely dead.
"Fine. Have it your way. But mark my words... I will be back. And I will kill that tree."
I knew deep down that if I tried to unleash my poison or magic right now, his guards would overwhelm and slaughter me before the venom could fully take effect. I needed a better opening.
Reaching into the folds of my cloak, I pulled out my last remaining teleportation crystal and crushed it ruthlessly in my fist. The portal tore open beside me, and without casting another look at my so-called family, I stepped through the swirling light.
The kingdom vanished, replaced instantly by the cold, dark stone of the Southern council chambers. Standing there, waiting anxiously near the center map table, was the Southern Prince and his father, the King.
I shook the dirt from my cloak, my voice sharp.
"Why are you both standing here hovering?"
"Neither the spies we sent to the North nor the ones from the West have come back,"
the Prince reported, his brow furrowed in deep frustration. "The East Kingdom is still acting like an impenetrable fortress. There has been absolutely no movement on their borders."
A sudden, cold spike of panic set into my chest. The carefully laid plan was beginning to fracture around us.
"What about the elves?" the Southern King asked, stepping forward.
"The elves refused," I hissed, my jaw clenching tightly as I pulled my hood down completely. "We will have to force their hand later. But for now we will reach out to the sky and bone people... you and I are going to have to take a personal little visit to see my dear sister."
A slow, wicked smile spread across my face as the pieces of a new strategy began to fall into place. In order to truly know what the hell was happening behind the locked gates of the North and the West, I couldn’t rely on pathetic, easily slaughtered scouts anymore. I had to go myself.
"Can’t send a child to do a woman’s job," I whispered to the room, my eyes gleaming with killing intent as I began to prepare for our journey into the lion’s den.