The Call of the Void

t h r e e

Boern's footsteps echoed through the vast hallway of the Narek palace as he sought out Arielle. When he found her, she stood on one of the many palace balconies, her gaze fixed upon the river and the landscape below. Her snow-white hair cascaded down her back, held in check by two braids, and her weapons were at rest against the balcony rails – silent witnesses to the elven warrior's vigil.
"I can hear you breathing," she uttered softly, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying a weight of memories. Boern approached, standing beside her, and together, they surveyed the kingdom below. The tense lines in Boern's shoulders eased, and for a moment, the weight of responsibility lifted as he closed his eyes.
Boern listened in silence as Arielle spoke of her haunting past. Her voice carried the weight of bitter memories that seemed etched into the very fabric of her being.

"I used to dream of a place like this when I was in Bureka," Arielle's admission trembled with the emotional scars of her history. The king and the humans, their insatiable hunger for power and pleasure, had left scars etched deep into her being. Arielle, weakened and malnourished, had crafted an escape plan. With desperation as her fuel, she fled into the forest, hoping for freedom. However, her attempt was short-lived. Moments later, she was captured and forcibly returned. Yet, on the journey back, an inexplicable darkness enveloped the land, casting shadows of death and offering a fleeting sanctuary.
"We are to travel to Loakanare," Boern interjected, interrupting the echoes of Arielle's painful memories. "The horses are being readied. The king has devised a plan for me to retrieve ancient scrolls of the six." Boern cast a sidelong glance at Arielle, sensing the heaviness of her thoughts.

His tone grew sharper, reflecting not just frustration with her, but with himself. "Your role is crucial, and you must keep him engaged, even if it's for show. The success of our mission hinges on your ability to captivate the lord's attention. We need those scrolls desperately." Boern couldn't help but feel the weight of their shared history. He knew her past, the scars from Bureka, the escape attempt stained with both despair and a mysterious darkness.

Arielle turned her gaze from the kingdom below to meet Boern's eyes, her own reflecting a defiance born from years of painful history. "I won't be a pawn in your game, Boern. I won't be used as a pretty distraction for Lord Aesthelstan," she declared firmly, her voice echoing her reluctance to conform to the expected role.

Boern's frustration deepened, a mixture of anger and a trace of something more complicated. The unspoken feelings between them lingered, creating an invisible barrier that both desired to break yet feared to breach. He continued, now tinged with a frustration that turned inward, as if blaming himself.

"Yet here we find ourselves, willingly engaged in this intricate dance. I need you to set aside any personal feelings you may have. This isn't about us. It's about the fate of Narek and the legacy of the original six."
The air grew dense with the unspoken tension between them, the anger at her, at himself, and the delicate dance of emotions that hung in the air like a heavy mist.

As the company embark on the 12-hour journey to Narek, a sense of unease settles over them. The air becomes heavy with an ominous feeling, and a haunting awareness of being watched sends shivers down their spines.

Through the winding paths that lead them closer toward Narek, the unsettling feeling of being watched continuously clung to the air like an unseen presence. The riders exchanged wary glances, their eyes scanning the dense foliage on either side. Elusive figures flitted at the edges of their vision, leaving an eerie trail of uncertainty.

Arielle gripped the reins tighter, her instincts on high alert. Boern's gaze darted from shadow to shadow, trying to discern the source of their discomfort. It was a peculiar sensation, as if an old acquaintance observed them from afar, veiled in secrecy.

The horses seemed restless, their ears flicking nervously. The rhythmic beat of hooves merged with the hushed whispers of the wind, creating an unnerving symphony. The feeling of being watched became an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. The journey had become more than a physical progression; it was a descent into the unknown, where shadows concealed secrets, and the air held the weight of unspoken truths.

-

Lord Aesthelstan paced impatiently within the stone walls of his grand chamber in Loakanarê. The flickering torchlight cast shifting shadows that mirrored the turmoil within his darkened mind. The heavy air of anticipation hung like a veil as he awaited the return of his trusted general.

Finally, Morrigan emerged in a flurry, a shadowy presence that seemed to blend with the dimly lit surroundings. Her quick, purposeful steps betrayed the urgency of her mission. Aesthelstan's stern expression softened slightly, and he adopted a facade of courtesy.
"You took longer than expected, Morrigan," he remarked with a feigned smile that did little to mask his underlying impatience. Though his words held a superficial veneer of politeness, the Lord's true feelings simmered beneath the surface. In his twisted mind, everyone and everything existed for his benefit, and Morrigan was no exception.

"My lord, the convoy from Narek travels with a fleet of twenty-five armed warriors, just as the new king's message said it would. They did not see me; I made sure to linger in the shadows to avoid any and all detection," Morrigan reported swiftly, her words carrying an air of precision.

Stepping toward her, Aesthlestan  pushed a stray piece of hair out of Morrigan's face his touch lingering on her cheek as he observed her, savouring the moment of control. He could sense her heartbeat quickening, a testament to the mixture of loyalty and apprehension that defined their relationship. The raven-black hair framed her face in stark contrast to her pale skin, and the black armour accentuated the strength that resonated from her every move.

His smirk deepened as he took in her presence, relishing the subtle tension that filled the room. Lavender-brown eyes met his, searching, expectant. In that moment, he held not only her loyalty but also her vulnerability.

Aesthelstan's hand lowered, and he couldn't resist the temptation. His lips captured hers in a calculated display of dominance, a silent reminder of the intricate power dynamics between them. The kiss lingered long enough to convey possession but was abruptly broken.
"I was worried about you," he whispered, his tone hinting at a possessive concern.

"Tomorrow will bring a difficult new day as we hear what the new king of Narek has to say," he continued, the amusement in his voice carrying a mocking undertone. His game of power and manipulation would only deepen when the new kings convoy arrived, greeting a new dawn over the land of Loakanare.

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I am really not one for these authors updates, I have however noticed a few typos, specifically when I spell lord Aesthelstan's name, I will go back and fix these when I have time and am editing it. So if you can ignore them or if you feel comfortable enough just comment a 🖋️ and I can easily go back and edit them
Thank you for your time and happy reading :)