Thundering pattern of hooves decimate the serene atmosphere of the tall grass and wildflower meadows outside the castle's farmlands. As the small battalion of Royal Guard enter the Fairy Woods, King Niall slows the men down a bit as the terrain roughens up.
"This squabbling between the Elves and Dwarves over the past years, I swear has turned into a weekly occurrence." Niall says right when Ian's horse trots up next to him.
"Aye. Could you just wall them up in their respective countries?" Ian jests.
"Ha! No, that would not be very kingly," Niall responds, "If they haven't started killing each other yet, I should probably talk to them, and be diplomatic, and talk, and then talk some more," Niall mocks, and then pauses, "I wonder how much stone it would take to wall up their countries."
Ian responds with a laugh.
"Perhaps this quarrel will be over soon and we can venture off into Alvaheim, for some Porunein Potion and a dance with the Elven ladies," Niall implies inappropriately, then grins coyly. Ian concurs, yelps to his horse to go faster. Niall laughs and follows suit.
A couple days after leaving the city of Dunbhaile, crests the Royal Guard on top of a lush grassy hill. Nudging to the front, snorting a bit in disdain that it even had to put effort into its current position, is King Niall's horse; giving him a serene vantage point. Niall's curls saunter from a soft breeze carrying the scent of freshly fallen rain. Thick charcoal gray clouds move swiftly above a solid onyx-rock cliff face on the other side of the emerald-green valley below. Disturbing the scene though, are two huge armies edging the valley with tents, campfires, and makeshift stables for the cavalry horses.
"Looks to be about ten thousand troops on each side," Ian says as his horse brings him next to Niall, "At least the wind from the storm is keeping the foul smell of the armies at bay," comments Ian.
"Aye, very true. And look, they haven't started killing each other yet," Niall wiggles a bit in his saddle, "Ian, remind me again, why do we have to ride these uncomfortable beasts?"
"We have to appear as equals while interrupting a battle, Sire. If we were to just fly in, it could be misconstrued as an attack." Ian answers.
"Good answer, you might be able to run these hooligans after all," King Niall, impressed, then says, "Oh...looks like I spoke too soon."
Niall spots the lean, Elven King, Rinnal [Rye-Nall], and the stout Dwarf Chieftain, Forbish [Fore-bish], gallop their horses towards each other, leading their screaming armies to fight. Instinctively King Niall races on his horse, the Royal Guard following, 'Got to try and stop the raging armored bodies clashing and tearing each other apart.' 'Damn! I'm not going to make it by horse,' Niall realizes and then puts his hand in the air, then gestures a command to the guards. A loud acknowledgment comes from the battalion, and then his fingers count down from 3...2...1. FLASH!
Just as Forbish and Rinnal near each other to strike, they are blinded by a quick flash of lightning with defining thunder. They are stilled by a crystalline encasement around them, along with both of their front lines. Appearing and standing between the two armies, is King Niall, along with the entire fairy battalion.
"Wait! Sires! Please!" King Niall shouts.
"LET US GO!" Rinnal and Forbish say in unison.
"Not until you both agree to behave long enough to talk," Niall looks at both leaders' eyes as they respond.
"YES," both respond in unison.
"Okay then," Niall lowers both his arms, releasing the spell on the two leaders, while the battalion continues to hold off the armies.
YOU ARE READING
Mythical Book #1
FantasyPaige lives a secluded and simple life. However, suddenly she's thrust into a perilous journey, driven by the belief that her destiny holds the balance of the universe, for better or worse. Shockingly, she discovers that her very existence is deemed...
