The Call of the Void

f i v e

Arielle, her eyes still reflecting the lingering enchantment of the garden, took note of Morrigan standing stoically beside the Lord. There was something unsettling yet about familiar about her presence. Nevertheless, she redirected her attention to Lord Aesthelstan, a genuine smile gracing her lips.

"Your garden is truly breathtaking," she complimented, her gaze momentarily returning to Morrigan before settling back on the Lord. "I have never witnessed anything quite like it. It's as if memories themselves have taken tangible form in this magical place."

Lord Aesthelstan's eyes softened at Arielle's compliment, and a knowing smile played on his lips. "It is indeed a marvel, my dear—the Garden of Memories, a tapestry of moments woven into nature's tender embrace. But enough for now. Let the beauty of this place accompany our meal; I am sure you must be hungry after your vast travels," he said, his gaze lingering on Arielle before turning his attention to Boern.

Once seated, Lord Aesthelstan began to eat, his eyes flickering to Morrigan over his shoulder before settling on Boern, who stared thoughtfully at his plate. The Lord, ever perceptive, delved into the matters at hand. "So, Silas is dead?" he inquired, his tone carrying a subtle curiosity.

Arielle's fork clinked against her plate as she looked up at Boern, awaiting his response. Boern's knife sliced through the air with deliberate precision as he dissected his meal. With a casual flick of his wrist, he remarked, "Silas? More a puppet than a king, really."

"Mmm," the Lord mused, his gaze shifting between Arielle and Boern. "And why has the new King not accompanied you here? Is it his custom to hide behind walls and send you out to do his dirty work?"

The air in the garden seemed to thicken, tension simmering beneath the surface as the Lord's inquiry lingered, waiting for an explanation.

Boern glanced up from his plate, meeting Lord Aesthelstan's gaze with a steely resolve. "The new king has other matters to attend to. He trusts us to handle negotiations on his behalf," Boern replied, his tone curt and assertive.

Arielle, sensing the tension, intervened, "Our king values the peace between our lands and believes sending us as emissaries is a gesture of goodwill. He seeks a peaceful resolution to begin his new reign. "

The Lord leaned back, studying them both. "Peace, a noble pursuit. But sometimes, my dear Arielle, peace requires sacrifice. I hope your king understands that."

As the conversation continued, Morrigan remained silent, her gaze shifting between the Lord and the visitors, a subtle intensity swirling in her eyes.

Lord Aesthlestan, his gaze flickering between Boern and Arielle, leaned back in his chair, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Now, tell me about your new king. What makes him worthy to sit on the throne of Narek? What abilities does he possess?"

Boern, maintaining a guarded expression, took a deliberate pause before responding, choosing his words with care. "Our new king is a man of vision and purpose. His abilities are his own, and serve the interests of Narek. As for why he took the throne, the intricacies of such matters often elude simple explanations. The ebb and flow of power is a dynamic force, my lord."

Aesthlestan's eyes glinted with curiosity, but he allowed a chuckle to escape. "Ah, the dance of politics and power. A most intricate waltz, wouldn't you say? Noble aspirations, I'm sure. But let's not pretend that it's all for the greater good. Peace, after all, is a facade, you and I both know this new king that sits on the throne is anything but a peaceful man, I have heard the whispers of the shadow emerging from the North Boern."

Lord Aesthlestan's eyes harden with a hidden agenda and he rises from his seat. The air becomes charged with tension and the memories that seemed to have flit around carelessly seem to have disappeared, the once inviting Garden of Memories now feels like a trap.

The late afternoon sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the majestic garden. In the midst of blooming flowers and the symphony of nature, a subtle shift occurred. Lord Aesthlestan, his eyes holding the weight of hidden knowledge, signalled Morrigan and his guards. They moved like phantoms, encircling Arielle and Boern as the impending sunset bathed the scene in warm, amber hues.

As the air grew charged with tension, Lord Aesthlestan leaned forward, his face dappled by the fading sunlight. "Boern, your words about Silas ring true, but your new king has gravely underestimated me," he declared with a calculated calm. "I am no stranger to the prophecies, especially the one foretelling a shadow emerging and engulfing the land."

The garden, now bathed in the soft glow of twilight, seemed to hold its breath. Lord Aesthlestan's revelation resonated, and he continued, "The moment I received that letter, I discerned his true plans. Aware of the peril that awaited us and I took decisive action. The scrolls detailing the prophecy, the ones claiming the shadow's inevitable ascent, were destroyed by my hand."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced among the flowers, the gravity of Lord Aesthlestan's words hung in the air. The beauty of the garden now stood in stark contrast to the ominous undertones of political manoeuvring and an averted destiny.

A wicked smile plays on Lord Athelstan's lips, "I tire of this charade," he declares his voice echoing through the Garden of memories, "Your dark King thought he could sneak into my kingdom with a peaceful façade. I will show him the futility of such attempts."

With a swift calculated motion he raises his hand, and flames erupt around him like the rays of the sun, the air crackles with an intense heat as the flames dance with a malevolent energy. He directs his fiery inferno towards the warriors from the Dark King's convoy. The once- proud soldiers are engulfed in the flames and their screams pierce the air creating an eerie symphony of destruction as they are turned to nothing but ash.

A hushed silence falls over the garden as the weight of what just transpired settles. Lord Aesthelstan turns to Boern and Arielle, who stand in shock, and anger.

"There, I have rid you of your tiresome bargaining and the burden to steal from me," he states with a sinister gaze, "Now run back to your little king and remind him of the power I possess and that Loakanrê is not a kingdom to be trifled with."

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