The door of the inn opened slowly, making a creaking sound as it made its course. A cloaked figure walked in, beaten by dust from tedious travel. The innkeeper walked over and greeted them.
The figure barely acknowledged him, moving straight to a seat and sitting down. The innkeeper didn't give up and followed.
"May I offer you something, sire?" he asked as politely as he could.
The figure turned and looked straight at him. He heard a sigh, and before the figure unveiled its face, revealing a mass of long black hair, a pair of obsidian eyes, and a strangely beautiful face. Atop her head were two black wolf ears which were tufted at the ends.
"You're beast-kin," the innkeeper commented approvingly.
"Any problem with that?" she asked calmly, an eyebrow raised.
"Oh no! It's just that I admire races like that," he quickly refuted and added, "Anything to eat or drink?"
"I'll just have a ginger ale. I'm expecting someone," she said quietly, and the innkeeper nodded and went to fix her order. No sooner had he left than another person walked in. This time it was a man, obviously from a noble bloodline, who had a scowl on his face. He glanced across the room and walked over when he saw the girl sitting. He sat on the chair across from her before he spoke.
"Aetheris?"
"Yes, that's me," she nodded.
"His Majesty has a mission for you. Do you accept?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Good point. Two merchant ships will be arriving tonight. Your job is to prevent anyone from attacking them. King Igresi's rivals might use that as an avenue to get to him," he explained.
Aetheris nodded, and just then the innkeeper brought her ginger ale.
"Cheers," she smiled and gulped it down. She stood up, grabbed her sword, and left as mysteriously as she had appeared.
< . . . . . . . . >
Arinthal lay on his bed, gazing at the ceiling and reminiscing about his fight with Alpheus. At that moment, he felt powerful, almost invincible. That was a feeling he didn't get to feel often. He had tried countless times since he had arrived on the Tamerlein sea to channel velori for combat, but failed each time. It seemed that his velori only became stable during near-death experiences.
"What are you..." a voice shouted before a gurgling sound followed, then silence.
"What is happening?!" Arinthal shouted.
No response.
Arinthal grabbed Moonshade and silently crept towards the door. He pressed his long ears against the wooden walls, waiting to hear something.
Footsteps. Slow and stealthy.
Now, definitely something was up. He waited until the footsteps became close and then he opened the door quickly, sped out, and made a slash with his sword.
The element of surprise worked. The Fiannarel House delegate's head fell to the ground. There were two bodies on the floor in front of his cabin. He recognized one of them as the brown-haired seeker.
"Surrender, your majesty. You're dead," a sneering tone announced at his rear.
Arinthal turned calmly to face the group of so-called delegates, who stood in the wide hallway, ready to shred him to bits.
"I know you fools weren't actually delegates, but tell me, why go this far to kill me? I don't seem so important," Arinthal questioned.
"You are a disgrace to every elf on Eldrida. The Heads of the Five Great Houses want you dead. You'll only be a hindrance to the war against Nadindel," the large Aethon elf grinned and spat with contempt.
"It seems you lack the brainpower to understand simple language. Well, let me narrow something down for you. I might not be able to channel velori properly, but that doesn't mean that I wasn't taught how to kill with just a sword."
Arinthal sighed and brandished Moonshade gracefully, his squinted eyes gazing at the fools who had come after him.