Sallitia: Age of War

2

Days passed in peace and tranquility for Eburon and his family. The forests of Sallitia flourished, and birds sang melodies of joy. Eburon cherished these quiet days, the calm after countless battles fought to protect his people. Yet, in the back of his mind, he felt a strange restlessness—a sense of foreboding that he couldn’t quite explain.

One morning, as he stood in the great hall, admiring the gentle sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows, a guard entered, bowing deeply before addressing the king and queen.

“Your Majesties,” the leader of the royal guard began, “we have seen a group of people approaching our borders. They appear to be... human.”

Eburon’s brow furrowed. Humans had not set foot in Sallitia since the days of Egeldor, and the elven king did not take this lightly. He shared a look with Laralythia, whose calm gaze mirrored his concern.

“Bring them before us if they cross our borders.” Eburon instructed, his voice steady. “And call Valter to us as well.”

The guard nodded, bowing before taking his leave. Eburon watched him go, deep in thought, before a small voice pulled him back to the present.

“Ada? What will happen if humans come here?” prince Alvanar looked up at him, his face a mixture of curiosity and worry.

Eburon knelt to meet his son’s gaze, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “That, my dear Alvanar, is something we will decide when the time comes. For now, go and play outside. Let your heart remain untroubled.”

Alvanar nodded, casting a curious glance back toward his parents as he ran out into the courtyard. Eburon turned to his wife, who was watching their son with a slight smile.

“Do you think they come in peace?” Laralythia asked, her voice soft yet troubled.

Eburon sighed, his gaze drifting to the distant trees. “I hope so, my love. Our people have endured too much already. We need peace, not another war.”

The next day, the guard returned, accompanied by a figure shrouded in a deep hooded cloak. As they entered, Eburon immediately recognized the familiar silhouette, and a small smile touched his lips.

The man bowed low, revealing a barn owl perched on his shoulder, its round eyes observing the room with an almost eerie intelligence. “Your majesty, I arrived as soon as I received your message.”

Removing his hood, the man revealed an elderly face framed by a long, silver beard. It was Valter, a member of the White Council and a trusted advisor.

“Valter,” Eburon greeted him warmly. “thank you for coming so quickly. I have need of your wisdom.”

“Anything for you, my liege.” Valter replied, his eyes warm yet sharp. “What troubles you?”

Eburon explained the arrival of the humans, his voice low with concern. “My soldiers have seen humans nearing our borders. Human have not set foot in Sallitia for thousands of years, not since Egeldor was banished.”

Valter nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Your majesty, if they’ve traveled this far, I doubt they come with ill intentions. Allow them an audience. Hear what they wish to say. They may simply be in need of aid.”

Eburon considered this, finally nodding. “Very well, Valter. Your counsel, as always, brings clarity.”

A few days later, the elven guards escorted a group of humans to the great hall. Eburon and Laralythia awaited them on their thrones, their faces serene yet guarded. Prince Alvanar, filled with curiosity, hid behind his father’s cloak, peeking out with wide eyes at the strange visitors.

The group of humans looked weary and travel-worn, yet their gazes were proud, filled with a quiet resilience. Some held banners, dark blue with a white horse emblazoned across the fabric, flapping in the gentle breeze. A man and woman stepped forward, bowing deeply.

The man, tall and broad-shouldered, spoke first. “Mighty elven king, beautiful elven queen, I am king Caspian, and this is my wife, queen Alexandra. We come from the distant land of Varsnakt, a place that was once our home, now destroyed by war. We have journeyed across the sea, hoping to find a safe haven.”

Queen Alexandra, who was visibly pregnant, placed a hand on her belly. Her eyes held a quiet desperation as she spoke. “We wish no harm to your people, nor to the magical creatures of this land. We humbly ask that you allow us to settle within your borders.”

Eburon’s gaze softened as he looked upon the weary humans before him. He felt the weight of their hardship in their voices and saw it in their tired eyes. For a moment, he was silent, considering their request.

After a thoughtful pause, he spoke. “There is a plain to the south of Hisidore, fertile and untouched. I grant this land to you and your people. Build your settlement there, and may it serve as a place of refuge and peace.”

King Caspian’s face brightened with relief, gratitude filling his eyes. He stepped forward, bowing low once more. “Thank you, your majesty. Your generosity will not be forgotten. I hope this marks the beginning of a lasting friendship between our people.”

Queen Alexandra echoed her husband’s sentiment, her voice filled with hope. “May our kingdoms grow strong together, side by side.”

As the humans turned to leave, Alvanar peered out from behind his father, studying the strangers with intense curiosity. Queen Alexandra caught his eye, smiling softly. She knelt down, her expression gentle.

“And who might this be?” she asked, her voice warm.

“This is my son, Alvanar.” Eburon replied, pride in his voice.

Alvanar flushed, ducking his head shyly. Caspian chuckled, giving the young elf prince a respectful nod. “Perhaps one day, our children shall be friends, as our kingdoms will be.”

Eburon watched as Caspian and Alexandra led their people southward to the plains he had granted them. The elven king felt a sense of hope spark within him. Perhaps this was not only a chance for peace but a new beginning, where the two realms could learn and grow from each other.

Within mere months, the humans built a thriving city on the southern plain, which they named Rohan, the City of Riders. It was a place of movement and vitality, with tall towers and stone walls, built to honor the endurance and strength of their people.