Chapter 22: Ch.19: Of Elvan Blood

The group leads Tisha into a large sitting room in the middle of reconstruction. Tisha stares around the room, noting the holes in the walls and ceiling as Glyn takes a seat on a sofa. Mila sits beside him as Miller stands behind the seat with the other Pawns waiting outside of the room. Tisha takes her seat in an opposite chair as Glyn stares at her.

            “Interesting,” Glyn says.

            “What is?”

            “Judging from your appearance, we should be close in age. Although it’s hard to tell with Elves. You all look the same after hitting your late teens and don’t age until you’re ancient.” He says dismissively.

Tisha glares at him. “I would expect such things from a filthy Half-Elf. Being unable to tell an Elf’s age just proves how human you are. If that’s what you're mixed with, for what I can tell, you might be some goblin’s bastard.”

            “Um…. Glyn, can I ask something?”

            “What?”

            “How come you two hate each other already? We’ve barely talked.”

Glyn sighs. “Well, it’s not like I hate her personally. I just dislike Elves.”

            “Why though?”

            “Well, they dislike me by my nature.”

            “Huh?”

Miller sighs. “It’s a sensitive subject for Glyn, so he’s dancing around the subject.”

            “Okay then.”

            “Mila, Elves, and Half-Elves don’t get along because the Elves believe it’s their blood that makes them superior. They see Half-Elves as being mistakes or things that shouldn’t exist because they dilute the Elven bloodline.” Miller explains.

Mila nods and stares at Glyn, grabbing his hand. “If it ever gets uncomfortable, I’m here for you.”

Glyn smirks. “Thanks. But I’m used to it. The only Elf that didn’t hate me on sight was my mother. Aside from her, I couldn't care less what other Elves think of me.”

            “That’s good. I think.”

            “It is.”

Tisha rolls her eyes. “Fine then. Let me ask you something Half-Elf, are you truly a king candidate?”

            “I am. I’m the only son or well, the bastard of house Mattox. While only a minor noble house, we still hold sway and connections, so I used that to get my way in.”

            “What do you plan to do? I doubt you’d be willing to assist the Elves should you become king.”

Glyn laughs at Tisha’s confusion. “I don’t plan on becoming king.”

            “You what!?”

            “There’s someone I can’t let win. I’m here to make sure they don’t get the throne. Outside of that, I don’t have a reason to be here. I’m just here to crush someone else above all else.”

            “I see. Then I see no need to tolerate your presence any longer. Your followers are foolish to take the words of such a king.” She stands up and moves towards the door.

            “The only thing I promised them was a chance to fight and grow stronger. An easy sell on an island full of warriors, but hey you're free to do what you want as long as you don’t cause trouble.” Glyn smirks as Tisha leaves. “Oh, but if you do cause trouble, we’ll be there to kick you out.”

            “Oh yeah? I decimated half of your forces already.”

            “You surprise attacked them. But I assure you, you won’t get the drop on them like that again.” Glyn says with a confident smirk on his face.

Tisha shakes her head and leaves the room with the other Pawns escorting her out. As she leaves, Glyn falls back into the sofa, with Mila watching him.

            “Are you okay?” She asks.

            “Yeah. Thanks, Mila. Holding your hand calmed me down a bit. I owe you one for that.”

Mila blushes. “It’s fine. I am your Queen. after all, I have to support you.”

            “Right, right? And thanks Miller, having your ugly mug glaring at her gave me some peace of mind, too.”

Miller sighs. “Thanks, I think. But let me ask, why is she here?”

            “Probably to suck up to the king candidates. The Elves always had a close relationship with the previous king. They’ll lose a ton of political power in the next regime unless they work hard sucking up.”

            “What’ll happen if they can’t?”

            “Most likely, some enterprising nobles will swoop in and try to steal their land. The Sacred Groove is a hot spot for magically infused plants and minerals of all types, and is ideal for farming. Not to mention the fruit that can only grow there from the Elf’s medicine. I’ve heard plenty of people have tried many a method to get their hands on it or some Elven secrets. But the Elves are a stubborn bunch, I’ll tell you that.”

            “I see. So we should expect to face off with Elves during the war?”

            “Most likely. They probably sent a warrior off to each candidate, which means at least eleven more of those assholes.” Glyn pauses.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “If they know about the king candidates and which islands they’re on, then she… she had a map!” Glyn yells, falling to the floor. “Damn it!”

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            “You have been trying to narrow where the other candidates are. I can assume you have had no luck.”

            “None. She might’ve been my ticket to finding them and putting a swift end to this.” Glyn sighs. “Well, it’s no big deal. Just gotta do this the hard way.”

Miller stares at him. “You mentioned stopping her if she caused trouble….”

            “Oh, that’s a lie.”

            “What?”

            “Listen, she nearly took out four guys on her own. And she barely used any of her magical abilities. That tells you something.”

            “Why?” Mila asks.

            “Elves are all about their magic. Trust me when I say that if she causes a stir, it’ll likely take all of us to bring her down. As much as I hate to admit to something like that.”

            “Okay, so she’s strong, and she’s skilled, and she’s good with magic. Should we be throwing such an ally away?” Miller asks.

Glyn nods. “Logically, it makes little sense. We’re running close to the end and all I have are some Pawns and a Queen. No Knights, Rooks, or Bishops, it’s defiantly a weakness, but….”

            “But what?”

            “I can’t stand her at all. It’d be difficult to work with someone who might stab you in the back when a better offer comes in.” Glyn sighs, sitting back down on the sofa. “All we can do is prepare. I’ll work on finding out what I can about unusual dungeons. You all do what you do and we’ll try again at sunrise.”

            “Okay,” Miller says.

            “What can I do?” Mila asks.

            “For now, rest up. We might rely on you a lot when we get inside of the place.”

Mila lowers her head. “Okay.”

            “Don’t worry, resting is helping. At least one of us has to be ready for anything.”

            “Okay.”

Miller sighs. “Mila, come with me and we can work on your magic control. You’re getting better at throwing those fireballs of yours, but there’s more we can work on.”

            “Oh right. Of course, Brother.”

Glyn smirks. “Have fun. And don’t nearly burn down the manor again, it’s been a pain enough to try repairing it.”

            “That was only one time.”

            “One’s more than enough.”

Mila laughs as Glyn smiles. “I’ll do my best!”

            “I can always count on that.”

            “Come on. Everyone has a lot of work to do and very little time to get it done.” Miller says.

 

Hours later, as night falls, Tisha returns to her boat and looks over her things. She sighs as she prepares to push off, only to pause. A cloaked figure stands just outside of her sight, slowly approaching. She turns as they get close, readying her bow and arrow and fires. Only for the figure to disappear from her sight.

            “Impressive. You’re a fast draw, even for an Elf.” The figure says behind her.

            “Are you one of his?”

            “I am a Shadow. You should know what we are.”

Tisha relaxes as she puts away her bow, turning towards the Shadow. “The minors of the court. What are you doing here?”

            “Observing the king candidates and relying on messages from the mainland. Speaking off.” The Shadow pulls a piece of paper from their cloak handing it to Tisha. “A message from home, I believe.”

Tisha freezes. “This is.”

            “They are likely worried about their stray children. Please don’t keep them waiting for too long.” The Shadow says before fading away into thin air.

Tisha freezes as she holds the paper in her hand. “I have to do it, don’t I?”

Tisha gathers some wood and makes a small fire, holding out the paper towards the blaze. She takes a breath and concentrates on the paper. As she does, ink lines appear across the paper and forms a pattern before she throws it into the flames.

            “Hopefully it’s not too late. Of course, they sent it, so they must wait for me.” She says as smoke rises from the flames.

As she stares into the smoke, visions of people appear standing in front of her. She kneels and bows toward the figures.

            “I thank you for your time, council. How can I be of help to you this evening?”

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