Of The Line Of Estelondo: Percival's Tale.

Chapter 0 Part 2: When Famine Strikes, Where Do Loyalies Lie

It had been three weeks since Saironelloistya had announced the deaths, and the darkness had not yet subsided. Some of the citizens theorized that it was a curse, laid by Aranellevanima in rage at her daughter's death, and paid for with her own life. Others thought that it was simply a natural disaster and that it would soon pass, while on the other side of the spectrum, some thought it was the End of The World.

It was Orónëminya, who eventually divined the source, through a week of straight meditation and prayer. She walked over to her father, who sat on the throne, his face in his hands, and ventured, "Mom was loved by nature, was she not?"

Saironellotoron II sat up and forced a smile for his 1,234-year-old daughter, who due to the slow ageing of elves, appeared to be no older than a 13-year-old girl. "Yes, Orónëminya, and nature loved her back. Why do you ask?"

Orónëminya looked at Percival, who was standing to her left. The two siblings were very close, and you rarely found the two siblings apart from one another. Percival would have tea parties with her, and she would go sword fighting with him. This glance toward Percival gave her the resolve she needed to continue, and she turned back toward her father and explained "I think, after much meditation and forethought, that nature itself may be in outrage at her death. The forces of Nature are not to be reckoned with, as they have full access to the Weave."

Saironellotoron II considered what she was saying, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You may be correct, Orónëminya, but what shall we do, if that is the case? We lack the strength to assail Nature itself."

Orónëminya thought for a moment, and stated, "I do not know, Father. Druidism is not my expertise. That is more of Faramaureä's field of knowledge. However, Faramaureä knew nothing about how to correct this, but she did offer to ask the Elorean Elders if they had any viable solution for how to calm nature, and I accepted her offer."

Saironellotoron II stood up, and sat down beside her and Percival. "I thank you both for your assistance in this endeavour, and I apologise for my being aloof recently, as I have a lot on my mind."

Percival smiled, being a little over 1,320, and waved off his father's apology. "There is nothing to forgive. With your leave."

Saironellotoron II nodded, and the two of them left, running out in a way that reminded him that they were young, innocent, and full of life. He sat down on the throne, his hand resting over his mouth and chin, as he contemplated his eldest daughter's words.

. . .

However, the Elorean Elders had no magic that would allow them to correct the sky's dark veil. They did, however, send along a message. Nature is separate from time, therefore a moment for it could be a century for us.

The message did nothing to assuage Saironellotoron II's fears as the kingdom's food reserves ran out, and the people starved. It had been six months since the famine started and all the crops had died as winter set in. The cold of winter caused even more death, as the people's lack of food made them more susceptible to disease.

Although none of the royals died, they were no better off than the rest of the people. The transmuters of Meneltarma started turning objects into nutrient-rich food but they could not do it fast enough to feed all the people, so many still died, while only Saironellotoron II and Vistanasehí were creating food for the royal family.

Even worse still, there were widespread reports of cannibalism but he could do nothing to stop it. He paced in his throne room, barely sleeping, trying to come up with a way to save the people of Meneltarma, but he was not wise enough, at least as is considered.