Chapter 208: Out of Journal – Reaction

The city of Pizh'kh sat on top of a very tall and suspiciously flat plateau. As Uuruhk's first city, the country was named after the land it was built on.

On that city, inside a large palace, behind a beautifully carved desk, sat Uuruhk's Great Regent, Zhikh'On Thezhun. The woman would turn 3500 years old in a few months, yet her face was youthful and unblemished.

She was deep in thought, resting her elbows on the desk and her chin on her hands.

As Uuruhk's Great Regent, Zhikh'On had the sole duty and obligation to oversee the nation while her nephew grew old enough to inherit the crown. She was also tasked with nurturing him into a respectable and accepted monarch. Not doing so would catch the attention of Halves, the group that supervised the governments of the world and made sure everything ran smoothly within the margins of their absolute edicts.

The circumstances surrounding the Great Regent were not the kind to be celebrated. Ruling a nation was never on her to-do list. She had to, unfortunately.

Uuruhk's previous rulers, Queen Rikh'Las and King Mid'Zhin passed away of old age ninety years ago. The couple were a bit obsessed with control. Of all the children they had together, none stayed after becoming adults. The parents were incredibly problematic.

Zhikh'On sighed, remembering how deranged and hysteric they got when the smallest of details wasn't how they wanted it to be. Like that one time she placed an extra flower in the bouquet meant for His Excellency Miraztor last time he visited. The pair went feral with rage and indignation, spending an entire day to find the culprit.

Still, a smile twisted her lips ever so slightly.

Within their obsession of having everything under absolute control with the intention of making everything work like a clock, they managed to uplift the entire country; from the most hidden of villages to the most successful of businesses.

Zhikh'On glanced at a calendar on the desk.

Fel'Leron, her nephew, would turn a century old in three months, meaning he'd be of age to inherit the throne, putting an end to Zhikh'On's duties.

A sigh escaped her again.

None of that was what had her deep in thought, though. Those were distractions. The main issue was of much more importance.

An Elmari Elf had joined Her Excellency Natasha Novak's party. A young one, at that.

Zhikh'On's eyes fell on the sheet of paper in front of her, then read the information for the fourth time.

Pokh'Orra Pez'Che, a retired Platoon Commander who served the Organized Preventive Armed Forces of Uuruhk for twenty five years. Born to a commoner family in Pizh'kh, the woman became an outstanding Archer in a short time. She also was the one responsible for defending the trading settlement of Bokh'Ila at the border of Arakh'Ozh a little less than a decade ago. The Generals had thought she'd shoot right through the ranks and bring great achievements to the country, only to be disappointed when the young woman brought a resignation letter instead.

A young Elf who, most likely, had seen a fault in the system if she left that early in her career. Such an individual had joined a Halve.

Zhikh'On felt like vomiting blood.

What manner of tales would this young, disenfranchised Elf tell Her Excellency? What would such a young and disappointed individual have to say of her homeland? What of the Royal Family? What did Pokh'Orra's parents tell her about Queen Rikh'Las and King Mid'Zhin?

What could Zhikh'On even do about it?

Pokh'Orra would one day come back to Pizh'kh expecting to see her family in one piece, everything exactly where she left it. She'd have the most violent individual to grace this planet behind her, if King Gordon Igne Lumin's letter about what happened was true.

The Halve had killed, without hesitation or compassion, a member of an organization that tried to overthrow the government. The individual, a Changeling by the name of Zalan, was in charge of finances and trading within the organization.

To kill such a small fry herself. Her Excellency might be a very vindictive person, extremely demanding of the order Halves expect of the world... perhaps even more than Her Excellency Yulianna.

“Tsk!” Zhikh'On clicked her tongue and ground her teeth. “We women should help each other, not make each other's lives more difficult!” she complained in the empty room, then sighed, “I beg of you Pokh'Orra, young child... don't talk bad of the country that raised you!”

A knock on the door caught her attention.

“Servant Plikh'Os has arrived as instructed, Great Regent,” a voice announced.

Zhikh'On smiled. She had a plan that would hopefully work in her favor.

The city of Maarkhan sat on a bay to the east of Leks. The many ports and docks surrounding the ocean were busy as usual with hundreds of people going to and fro while carrying, pushing, pulling, or holding cargo of any kind.

Inside a tall tower that also served as a lighthouse, on the fourth story, Lofrada Tilensis III, Queen of the ancient Queendom of Maaruhk, watched over the spectacle that signified healthy and abundant commerce with a pensive expression. Every time a boat sounded the horn that signaled its departure, Lofrada would smile proudly and raise her chin ever so slightly for a few seconds.

Footsteps echoed in the distance beyond the doors of the room she stood, breaking her concentration.

Lofrada turned around, walked to an intricately decorated throne, and sat down with the appropriate posture of a woman who ruled a three million year old nation.

A couple of Royal Guards stood at the sides of the exquisite chair, waiting for anything to happen with the hope nothing would.

The doors to the throne room opened and a young teenage Elf girl brazenly walked in with her chin raised and a slightly smug expression on her face.

You are reading story Natasha the Halve at novel35.com

Lofrada's great granddaughter stood before her.

“Grandma,” the girl greeted with a fancy bow. “I have received some good news,” she revealed with an inviting grin, implying the news were fresh out the press.

Lofrada held back the urge to sigh. Having ruled for over two thousand years, no news would go past her. Nevertheless, she chose to indulge the kid, taking the chance to teach her about politics and proper decorum. Lofrada nodded. “Need I remind you how to address your Queen?” she chastised with pursed lips.

The teenager actually rolled her eyes at the remark, but corrected herself, “Your Majesty. Anyway, I heard something and I thought I'd share some ideas with you.” Zafrada gave her a mysterious look.

Lofrada's face did not change in the slightest.

“Do you remember Lapia Pofeta?” Zafrada inquired the Queen that gave the mentioned woman a task given to a very select few. “She's a noble and is the one that taught Desseyr,” she summarized quickly to refresh Lofrada's memory.

Lofrada's left eye twitched. “Do not speak of a Protector by name alone, child,” she chastised again, heavier this time.

Zafrada sighed loudly. “Alright, got it. Anyway, this Lapia is now accompanying Na- Her Excellency Natasha. I was thinking we could approach Lapia's family to get on their good side and have them cooperate with us, then get Lapia's support and in turn, Her Excellency Natasha's.”

Lofrada's eyes widened, and her mouth opened. As the Queen of the nation, Zafrada's words had never crossed her mind. She was in a state of utter stupefaction.

“Heh,” Zafrada snickered at the reaction. “I bet you didn't see it like that. So, what do you think?”

The two thousand year old ruler blinked a few times. “What?” she asked for clarification, forgetting her position and the protocol she had followed her entire life.

“You see,” Zafraga continued. “If they don't comply, we could put a little pressure-”

A hand moved at twenty kilometers an hour, then hit the child right on the face.

Her frail and young body spun in the air five times, then hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.

“Heal her,” Lofrada commanded in a cold tone.

A Royal Guard extended a hand and sent Life Energy into the child.

Zofrada regained consciousness a few seconds later, taking a long and loud gasp of air. “Wha?” she uttered in confusion while sitting up. “Where am I?”

“Zofrada Tilensis XVI,” Lofrada began with a loud voice. “What you have uttered in this hall is no different from conspiring to harm a Protector, using Nobility as a weapon and shield for Royalty, malicious coaxing of the common populace since Lapia Pofeta abandoned her status as Noble, and risking the Country that raised you.”

Lofrada hadn't thought of such a plan before because it was beyond silly. The only outcome was death, followed by the dissolution of the country.

The teenager stood up and looked at the Queen, then whispered, “What?”

“You should know better,” Lofrada chastised. “And if you don't know, then you do not speak! Forget about going to Lam'Akh next winter. You will get lessons in common sense directly from me.”

Zafrada's face paled, then turned red in anger. “Why did you strike me?” she demanded.

Lofrada's face twisted in disapproval. “It's either that or execution, and I will choose for you because you're a fool!” she declared. “Your plotting reveals you an imbecile, Zafrada. Better to be slapped by me than decapitated by Her Excellency.”

Silence met her words.

Lofrada let out a disappointed sigh for the first time in three centuries. Lofrada did not know who Zafrada had told her moronic plans, therefore had to take precautions in case anyone had the intention of realizing such stupid ideas. “Summon the Fingerless!” she commanded, then sat down. “And you,” she pointed at Zafrada, “leave my presence this instant.”

The town by the name of Youni deep within the mountains of Red Island was calm as usual. Birds flew by, people walked the streets, and a Performer sang in a plaza while playing drums.

Bosin Makav was taking an afternoon stroll after training when a couple of Red Oni approached her.

The three exchanged looks.

Bosin noticed the rings the two had on their horns, then nodded. “Just in case?” she inquired.

The two young Oni nodded. “Apologies if it offends,” they said at the same time.

“Bureaucracy,” Bosin concluded with a smile. “Come on, Josin is cooking today. You don't want to miss that,” she told them and continued with her stroll.

Just like that, the two members of the Committee for State Security followed the retired member of the Committee home.

You can find story with these keywords: Natasha the Halve, Read Natasha the Halve, Natasha the Halve novel, Natasha the Halve book, Natasha the Halve story, Natasha the Halve full, Natasha the Halve Latest Chapter