The Call Of Shadows

Chapter Four

Prince Rokan was normally a timid, even tempered man but ever since the elves left for their homeland he had been scrutinized and he was getting sick of it. Him and his father's voices boomed off the throne room's walls and shook the very air they breathed. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR MOTHER'S LEGACY!" The King shouted in his son's face. "She is GONE. Don't you get that you foolish child?! What matters now is the future of our kingdom!" Tears brimmed in Rokan's eyes as he grit his teeth in an effort to keep from crying. "And why-" He hissed, "Is she gone again? Because I distinctly remember the elves trying to warn us that a Beast had broken through!" He narrowed his eyes, practically daring his father to make a move. "What exactly are you insinuating son?" The king whispered threateningly in his ear.

Prince Rokan had to choose his words very carefully. Despite his best efforts, his temper was getting the better of him and he had staged this fight for a purpose. He could not afford to lose his head in the heat of the moment. He took a deep breath before speaking. "I am not insinuating anything my King. But I am suggesting that even though the elves in the northern districts are a lost cause perhaps their southern counterparts could be swayed to our side and see reason." Rokan's heart beat loudly inside his chest. The entirety of his promise to the elder Salwein hinged upon gaining his father's trust for the duration of this war. The King took a step backwards and looked in his son's eyes. He cupped the side of his face with his hand and held it there for a moment. There was so much of his wife left in his son...It really was a shame.

"Why is this so important to you Rokan? Don't you know that your mother would already be proud of how hard you tried to maintain the peace?" Perhaps if his son wouldn't see reason, flattery could achieve the same result. Prince Rokan closed his eyes, letting himself be overtaken by sadness for a moment. "Because mother would not have wanted me to give up trying until I had no other choice. I know that you do not respect the shared history as deeply as I do, but I am trying to honor her memory. That's all father..." He let his shoulders slump in defeat and his father drew him close. The King drew in a shaky breath and held his son as he wept. "I miss her too Rokan. I miss her too."

Silence momentarily descended upon the throne room as their tempers cooled. Eventually the young prince pulled away from his father and asked the most difficult question of this whole encounter. "In a few weeks time I would like your permission to take a few of my men with me and make a diplomatic journey to the Lower Plains. I won't cross into the Elven Step but I believe I could send word to make some arrangements. Plus it would give us a chance to assess where the Fae are choosing to place their trust." The King looked long and hard at his son. "I suppose," He began slowly, "It would be alright. But I would feel better having my men accompany you instead. For safety's sake."

Rokan was in dangerous waters here. He couldn't sound desperate, and he was relieved he had been practicing what to say for days now. "With all due respect, your men are already highly trained and have spent several more years in service. My men are not quite as experienced yet, and in the event of war I would like more of them to survive than not. I was hoping to take two weeks to arrive there so that I might train them in a different landscape so they're better prepared when the time comes." His father nodded, impressed for the first time in a week. "How long would you plan on being away?" He asked. "About a month in total. I would ask, however, for you to send word once a week to keep me informed of preparations. It will help my men stay on task while we are gone." The King walked to a table near the windows at the far edge of the room. "Take these orders with you." He said. "Begin training for these strategies while you journey. I want your men ready by midwinter." Prince Rokan bowed and left. That had gone much better than expected, and as he walked back to his quarters he tried not to eye the papers in his hand. This is exactly what they needed.

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Me-Ree perched on the ruins of the balcony outside his home in the wasteland. He had been waiting for just over a decade for his time to come. His eyes hungrily searched the barren landscape for signs of life, knowing that soon his messenger would return. His hulking form dominated the balcony and he smiled with sharpened teeth to himself. It had been a very long time since anyone was brave enough to visit, yet on the horizon, he saw a heat signature beginning to rise and it was not his Death. He licked his lips eagerly and waited.