Valadel

Chapter XLIII

"It's official. By the king's decree, we're going to war," said Tytus. His head rested on his fist, which in turn rested on his chair's armrest. After the conclusion of the king's court meeting, the citizens marched from the courtroom, demanding to see the elves. The city guard immediately secured the king and attempted to quell the rioting crowd, the attempt was unsuccessful. The king was forced to spend the past two days holed up in Castle Elderstone.

Cristomir leaned forward in his chair opposite Tytus, wearing a gentle smirk. "You can't tell me it wasn't inevitable. I knew a war would come the second we stepped off the ship."

"Aye...we all did."

"What's to happen to us? Do not tell me we are shipping out, Jenna and I marry later this moon. I'd like to attend my own wedding."

"And you will. We're staying put. King wants us by his side during time of war."

Cristomir sighed. "Good. I did not want to leave her just yet."

Tytus chuckled. "Trust me, Cristomir, the furthest you'll go is the Wolveswood."

The window shattered as a rock flew into the room, interrupting their conversation. The splintered glass rained on the two rangers and freckled the ground.

"What the bloody-" shouted Tytus. He went to the window and peered outside. Hundreds of angry citizens formed a single, irrational mob. Crude signs gave the ranger insight as to their gathering. 'Kill the elves' read one sign. Another read 'Don't shame our ancestors'.

"Good gods...damn animals," said Cristomir, standing next to the ranger.

"No...just concerned citizens." Tytus' eyes followed the angry swarm of Jordens residents along the path all the way to the gates of Elderstone. A blockade had been built, a handful of city guardsmen trying desperately to fend off the raging citizens.

"We can't win a war if our own people are against us," said Cristomir.

"Aye...we'll never defeat the likes of Farrenhelm, Arnland and Jorden."

"I hope it doesn't come to that. How do we know the king will keep the elves alive?"

"We don't..." Tytus answered, "we can only hope."

"The abyss has already consumed our city. Maybe we can still save the world," said Cristomir.

Tytus smirked. "It will consume the world...it just starts here..."

Cristomir shook his head. "Maybe its not as bad as its made out to be."

"We'll get to find that out to ourselves" said Tytus grimly.

*****

Joras desire for his bed was almost as insatiable as a man's desire for water in the desert. He was as allowed little time for rest, and even less to see his family. His days were long and tiresome, as the echoes of war took shape in the parchments he received from neighboring villages and kingdoms. The sooner this war was to be won, the sooner he could return to his duties as a husband and father. He slowly strolled through the corridors, quick to give his body rest and rinse away the stress of today. The gentle torchlight painted the walls with an orange, fiery hue. The emblems and portraits of lions decorated the walls of Elderstone, as they had for centuries.

There was something admirable about the lion, something Joras always found himself thinking. Their courage, fearsome roar, and their undying loyalty left Joras content with their representation of the Freemane family. Joras indeed was a lion, in every level but physical.

As the king approached the doors to his chambers, the absence of his guard puzzled him. Their duty was performed throughout the day, always careful to guard the chambers of the king. His left chamber door was left slightly ajar. Joras instantly felt a sensation of worry. The past week had been eventful, and left him constantly paranoid. He slowly approached the door and calmly placed his palm against the flat, heavy wooden panel. He lightly pushed, sending the door open. The room was near dark, and a metallic scent lingered in the air. Joras gulped deeply.