He didn't wait, he didn't even let the guards stop him. Rather he just stood before their ruler. "I bring ill news, your highness." He bowed on his knees and his head was down, he couldn't look up.
Sweat dripped.
The courtroom that was ridiculed with arguments even just moments ago became silent. A scent lingered in the air: the scent of distress.
Their ruler- the high elf- Lianne exhaled but she didn't lose composure. "Go on."
"Archduke Daarc Green, is no more."
Lianne blinked twice. Once to make sure she heard right, twice to make sure, this was reality. Unfortunately, in both cases, she met with disappointment.
She was a half-dead. Her sense of fear and the pain of loss was very much the same as normal elf's: dulled. But- but the news hit her hard. She couldn't quite believe anything and neither could anyone else in the whole room.
One of the guards dropped on the floor, looking pale, and distant. The nobles and ministers froze.
"How?" Lianne spoke. Her voice was dry but her eyes were not.
She didn't believe it: no, she refused to believe it.
"There was a raid in Dracona. The emperor- the demon emperor himself raided the city and Lord Daarc stood up to him, fought valiantly, and fell in battle. His body and the bodies of his comrades were not recovered. No other lives were lost." The messenger did not look up. He silently cried. "He'd saved everyone there, your highness."
Drops leaked, but Lianne didn't cry. "Leave me." But even so- there was hope. What if-
What if he survived. Didn't Daarc always find a way to come back? He came back from the ocean! He came back from the forests! Could he not-
But- but- but her heart refused to calm down. Her body shivered and if it weren't for the nobles staring at her face- she'd have broken down in tears.
However, the messenger didn't move. "I bring more ill news, your highness." Even the messenger knew just the first news alone was tormenting enough. But he had to deliver the second one- at any cost. "The demons have declared war."
The grief-filled courtroom descended into chaos. A war? Now!?
Lianne was hurt- no, she was heartbroken. Her pain was immeasurable. She'd just lost her love. She'd just lost Daarc and now a war?
Cries, gasps, murmurs flew. The nobles looked already ready to give up. Their greatest military asset and their leader was no more. A war right now would not only tear the whole nation and the people would be devasted regardless.
It was hopeless.
"If a war they want-" Lianne shook. She shook with grief- she shook with rage. "IT's a war they'll get." She glared forward. She just lost her love; she wasn't going to lose her people either. "Send word to my brother."
"But your highness-" The count started. "We can't possibly-"
"Think again." Lianne raged. "If we don't fight now, there won't be a tomorrow and this time, there won't be anyone to save us."
***
The news of Daarc's death spread across the continent. He was perhaps one of the most notable warriors of his time and perhaps people would one day sing the songs of him and his journeys. One day perhaps he'd become a legend, one day perhaps he'd be forgotten.
But his passing heralded the end of an age. War was just around the corner, and if people didn't band together- they were next. The age of men was about to end.
Some wept at his death, some sighed and looked up, others just lived on, after all, life was just like that. One day, someone was here, the next day, they weren't.
The news of the war also spread like wildfire. The demons had declared war on all the races. The elves prepared for battle and so did men. Dwarves however were still hesitant. They could always just hide in their fortress cities but- they too were considering the war.
Before Daarc's passing, he and the king of men had signed a treaty in which the two agreed that they'd unite in case of a war like this- or so words went. Some part of it was fabricated by men: some by the elves, but in these desperate times, people had to stand together, or they'd get eradicated. So even if a little lying was necessary, it was a good cause and almost every nation agreed as much.
There was going to be a war- and it was going to be big.
***
"Heh!" An old man snorted. "He ain't gonna go that easy." He was on top of a wall, just looking out in the distance. Despite his words, he was wounded. And just perhaps a bit of wind would have made the shimmering water in his eyes fall down.
"Well, he was a tough cookie. I'd say he's still kicking somewhere." The man's son stood by him.
But neither were confident.
"You bet he is. That brat's too good to be dead." He chuckled. But there was no joy in his voice.
The man's son didn't say a word and just watched the horizon.
The sun was setting.
***
All her life she was told she was special. Everyone treated her like a god, they worshiped her, protected her with their life.
She didn't quite understand why. Why was her color pink while the rest were purple?
Why did she have so many weird memories of a time she never lived? Why did she remember things that never were? Who even was she?
Was she real?
She never really found the answers.
She didn't know what she was going to do or what she was even supposed to be doing.
Everyone treated her differently, she never got to have a childhood and no friends. Goblins were a very delicate race. One day they numbered one thousand, the next, less than a hundred. Their youth had the highest mortality rate in all of the dark realm. And yet, even though food was scarce, even though sometimes goblins died of hunger, they still gave enough food to her. Her life was more important than every single goblin and that was made clear to her from an early age.
And then one day, out of nowhere, everyone died.
No, they were killed. They were killed right in front of her. They were killed by a man. A man had shattered the bounds of her destiny.
And that very same man was now protecting her. The same man who treated her the same as the rest of the goblins.
She thought about revenge over and over again. She thought how she could kill him, how she could destroy the man. But in the end, she couldn't find any way. After all, the man was already broken. And he was already dead.
The goblin- Gryole wasn't afraid of the man. She knew he'd probably kill her eventually. But still, she wasn't afraid. After all, she wasn't even a real being. After all, she was just a tool for her race to live on. Just another sacrifice.
She didn't exist.
And yet, when the man screamed and ran for her- to save her- for the first time ever in her life, she felt something. She felt real, not just some fake god the goblins worshiped.
And that something led her to clutch to the man's robe and just forget about everything just this once.