Lorellia (Everlasting Legends, Book 1)

Ch. 17 - One Need Only Ask

Ardaik 6th - Homenil, Serellia

Alton bay—it was the hub of nearly all Serellian trade conducted in the east, and her harbor reflected that fact; lively and bustling with commerce. But Bhalthier Cullach rarely saw the docks. His family's vast estate was well removed from town, shrouded in misty trees and gardens on the northwest edge of the road leaving Homenil.

Most days, the Marquis stayed locked away in his tiny study, with only a single window as his portal to the outside world. His little window faced out towards the front of the manor, giving him a plan view of the long drive that cut through the trees like a cobblestone river from the west, then grew into a large roundabout just in front of the main entrance.

Fog had rolled in heavy from the bay, blanketing the ground so it mirrored the grey skies above. The clouds were so thick that there was no sunset, only a gradual dimming of light until Bhalthier was forced to light a second candle just to continue his writing.

When he paused long enough to reach over and grab the teapot, he caught a glimpse of himself in the polished silver. His reedy, pale face and grey, sunken eyes only deepened the frown he wore, and Bhalthier promptly turned the pot away from himself when he set it back down.

He'd just raised the delicate teacup to his lips when the tiny window quite suddenly came alive with the flapping of wings. A pigeon perched in the dark wood frame, and for the first time in hours, the Marquis's stern grimace softened.

"You're not one of mine..."

Bhalthier had crows, rooks, and even a few ravens—not a single pigeon. Pigeons were Lorellian messenger birds, so he already knew where the carrier hailed from, but it wasn't until he slid the note from its leg that he received his answer. For anyone else, it would have been the royal seal or the fine parchment that gave away that the letter was from King Viotto. For Bhalthier, however, he'd known before that. From the moment Bhalthier's hand had grazed the message, he'd known not only its sender, but its contents...

To Marquis of Homenil, Bhalthier Cullach,

Please excuse the curtness of this communication. My purpose is to relay the following information with utmost urgency.

Yesterday, in the late evening of the fifth, La'Trest was victim to a devastating assault executed by an elf, whom introduced himself as Obtoxicullous, among many other things, aided by a formidable army of undead, a dragon, and other irregular beasts.

Regretfully, I do not know the condition nor current whereabouts of Prince O'Conor, but many of my courtiers have expressed the firm belief that he did escape the attack. We will continue to search for him. However, at the time of my writing this, we are in dire need of assistance if we are to hold the city.

Therefore, on behalf of the crown and the royal court, I do formally request urgent aid in repelling this threat.

In doing so, I also hereby sanction permission for Serellian supplies, intelligence, and soldiers; as granted and ordered by His Majesty, King O'Conor, to lawfully cross into the territory of Lorellia—to be effective immediately and to remain as such until this crisis has been satisfactorily extinguished.

- Cristaldo Tito'Di Felice Viotto

Bhalthier fumbled for a quill and two pieces of parchment of his own. As he began to scribble out a response, his free hand grasped for the brass bell perched on his desk, and he immediately rang it. His first correspondence, he slid back into the Pigeon's leg strap before he sent it on its way. Once the bird left, it was replaced by Bhalthier's own crow.

"Eogan, take this to the king..." he muttered urgently as he tucked his message into the strip of leather bound to the crow's leg, before repeating his command more clearly, "To the king."