The smile slipped from King Feilolas' face and his expression hardened. “Flaranthlas, I don't believe that a member of elven royalty should be trained by humans.” Feilolas was shaking his head, and he used the word 'humans' like a curse. “You have never dealt with humans; you don't understand the treachery they are capable of.” He shook his head, “No. This is not an acceptable solution.”
“But grandfather, most of the elves would be happy to see me go. Prince Yolstice would probably help me pack. And you...”
“Flare, be careful what you say about my son. He is your future king.” The king seemed to growl the words instead of speak them. “I will not allow you to talk bad about him.”
Flare took a deep breath, and tried to steer the conversation back to where he wanted. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to insult uncle Yolstice. I merely meant that everybody might be happier with me gone. Everybody would get what they want.”
“The difference is that if you are assigned to one of our posts, then at least you will still be part of the elven kingdom.”
“But I am half-human. I know what it means to be elven, but I don’t know what it means to be human.” He was practically arguing with his grandfather, but he didn't even realize it. “I need to understand my heritage, even my human heritage. Wouldn’t yo...”
“YOUR HUMAN HERITAGE!” The king bellowed, half rising from his seat. His face wore a furious expression. “You mean the heritage that raped your mother. How dare you even suggest that anything the humans could teach you is more important than your elven heritage?” The king's face wore a look of anger, unlike anything that Flare had ever seen. “Do you want to know what I was arguing about with the elven nobles when you came in? I had insisted that you be allowed to join the elven guard in some capacity. They were completely against the idea, but I insisted.” The king was fully out of his seat now, moving back and forth, his face still an angry mask. “Perhaps they were right to begin with,” he said, nodding his head. The king paused, rubbing his temples, trying to collect himself.
Flare sat quietly in his seat, the blood having drained out of his face at the king's explosion. He would have gladly sunk through the small holes in the chair if they had been larger.
The king finally collected himself and spoke again, this time a little more quietly. “All right, I will allow the magi to test you for magical talent. If you have any, I will insist that you become a magician. If you do not have any magical talent, then you will attend the teachers’ academy at Demoreau.”
“But grandfather, that’s ridic...”
“Do not talk back to me!” The king snapped, returning to his seat. “Go home, before I really lose my temper.”
Flare rose and started to step away from the table.
“Come back tomorrow morning.” The king said quietly, as Flare reached the first step. “I want you to think about our discussion, and be prepared to give a different account of yourself tomorrow. Do you understand?”
“Yes, grandfather.” Flare said, his eyes on the floor.
Flare waited just a moment to see if the king would say anything else, but the king just sat there with his hands rubbing his temples. When nothing else was forthcoming, he bolted down the steps and across the courtyard. He had never been completely comfortable around his grandfather, but he had never heard his grandfather raise his voice to a family member before.
His grandfather had always been fair with him, and Flare felt humiliated about the meeting. He hadn't expected his grandfather to embrace his decision, but he hadn't expected this.
After leaving the palace gates, he slowed down and headed home. Since his mother was a princess, her estate was only a short distance from the palace. But after his meeting with the king, Flare was in no hurry to get home. He raised his hands and looked at them; they were still shaking from his grandfather's outburst.
He walked slowly over the cobblestone road, considering his options. When he went back tomorrow, he might be able to talk his grandfather into assigning him to the elven guard at a distant outpost, but that would only confirm everybody’s belief that he was unworthy. He could dutifully accept the king’s decision and become a teacher, but what would happen when Yolstice ascended to the throne? He could also run away, but he doubted that he would make it ten miles before the elven guard overtook him. Perhaps, he thought suddenly, his mother could speak to his grandfather in his behalf. He clung to that hope as he approached his home.
Princess Aliston's estates were beautiful, truly fitting for a princess. The two story house was made out of the smoothest white marble. A seven foot white brick wall surrounded the residence, more for appearance than protection, since there wasn’t any crime in Solistine. A pebble path went from the gate to the front door. Woods, flowers, and grasses surrounded the house and went to within ten feet of the wall.
Servants were going about their daily tasks, with a large number of them working on the grounds. As Flare walked up the path, some of the servants spoke to him, some nodded their heads, and some completely ignored him. He hardly even noticed their reactions, as he had grown up being ignored, he didn’t even notice it any more.
He walked up the stairs and through the door, where he was met by Althos. Althos was the chief servant, and had always been friendly to Flare.
“Hello, master Flare. I hope everything went okay with your grandfather.”
“Not quite. Althos, do you know where my mother is?”
“Of course, sir. She is visiting the lady Octura.” The lady Octura was expecting her first child and Flare's mother was helping her. “She said she would be back shortly before dinner.”
“Thanks Althos. I’m going to my room. If mother gets back early, please let me know.”
“Yes sir.”
Flare climbed the stairs to the second floor and lay down on his bed. With all the decisions that he had to make, the last thing he wanted to do was fall asleep. But after his draining morning, he fell asleep as soon as he lay down.
Althos woke Flare at dusk, just in time for dinner. Flare washed his hands and face, and went downstairs.
The dining room was immense. As a member of royalty, princess Aliston often entertained guests. The table was made of a hard wood, and was stained a deep red-brown. Along the walls, were extra chairs, used mainly for parties. A number of pictures and paintings adorned the walls, and there were a number of cabinets placed around the room that contained dishes, silverware, and glasses. On one wall, there were two ancient elven swords crossed for decoration.
Several servants were bringing in platters of food. Princess Aliston, Flare’s mother, was already sitting at the table. She was one hundred and fifty-two years old, but looked like she was twenty. She was slim, as were most elves, and she had waist length silver blond hair. She was wearing a long white dress, and a gold necklace. She smiled at Flare as he entered.
“You must have been tired from your big morning with father. You have been asleep for hours.” She looked questioningly at him, “Are you feeling okay?”
“I feel fine, mother.” Flare said, slipping into his chair. “How is Octura?”
“Oh, fine, she should have that baby any day now. But, I am more interested in hearing how your day went.”
Flare paused while a young elven girl refilled his mothers’ wine. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that too.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Grandfather is not pleased with me. I asked him to use his influence to get me into the guardians of Telur.”
Princess Aliston’s mouth fell open, and she was momentarily speechless. That was unusual, she didn't surprise easy. “You did what?” After a second, she regained her composure. “Whatever were you thinking?”
Flare's eyes dropped to the empty dishes on the table. “I’m not accepted here. I had hoped that I could see Telur, and maybe learn more about my human side. I know nothing about humans. I've never even seen a human.” His words seemed to be all jumbled together. In a disjointed way, he knew he was rambling on, bu
t he couldn't seem to stop. “Humans have been banned from the city ever since before I was born.” He neglected to mention that he was the reason that humans were banned from the city. “I have heard that the guardians of Telur will accept all peoples into their army, but grandfather wouldn’t even listen to me. I was hoping that you could talk to him and get him to change his mind.” As quickly as the words had poured forth, they just as abruptly cut off, leaving Flare nervously watching his mother.
Princess Aliston thought a moment before she spoke. “Flare, I understand your desire to know more about your human half, but I can't help you with this. Once he makes a decision, it is extremely difficult to get him to change his mind.” She swallowed hard, “I'm sorry, but you must deal with this on your own.”
“Well, what do you think I should do? Grandfather wants me to become a teacher or healer.” He shrugged, “Those are both respectable jobs, but I want to do something great with my life. I want to be known, I want to be a part of history. Do you think I should fight this or give in quietly?”
She shook her head, “Flare, You must decide this for yourself. This is your decision. This is your life.” She said the words emphatically. “You must make your own decisions and all I can do, is tell you to follow your heart.” She paused for a moment, and put her hand on Flare’s. “I have always followed my heart. It has sometimes gotten me into trouble, but you don't want to live your life saying ‘what if’. You must do what you think is right.”
Flare sat through the rest of dinner in silence. He felt torn between two worlds, not sure of which path to follow. He hardly could eat at all. After about twenty minutes of re-arranging the food on his plate, he broke the silence. “Mother, I need to think. May I be excused?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.” Flare got up from the table, and walked out the back door. He walked among the trees on the back half of the estate. The sound of the wind blowing through the trees was calming. He stopped and sat on a bench, thinking. If he obeyed his grandfather, then he would not get to do what he had chosen. Elven youths were allowed to choose what they wanted to do. If their decisions were not to their parents liking, then their inheritance could be transferred to another sibling. But they were not restrained from following their chosen path. Flare was not due to inherit anything; therefore there was no reason for him to be denied his wish. But that was exactly what had happened; his grandfather had deliberately refused his choice. Not only that, but Flare suspected that he would be forcibly stopped if it came to that. If he decided to run, he doubted seriously that he would get very far. The elven guard knew the forest paths much better than he did, and they had outposts all throughout the forest. They would be able to catch him without any problems. If he was going to run, then he needed a way to get a head start. With this simple thought, a plan began to take shape.
Flare paced the woods all night long. He planned each step of his escape, and then he took the time to rethink each step, re-examining it to make sure that he had not missed anything.
He returned to the house early the next morning, just in time to bathe and eat breakfast. He quickly got ready and left for the palace. Even though he had planned, and re-planned, this part of his escape, the anxiety was eating at him. He had never lied to his grandfather before, and he was afraid that he wouldn't be very convincing. Would his lie be that obvious? Could he manage the deception?
After a brisk walk to the palace, he stopped on the palace steps to compose himself. Since he had gotten to the palace a few minutes early, he sat on the steps and went over his plan one more time. Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the early morning chill. After reassuring himself that there were no obvious problems with his lie, he got up and entered the palace.
At this time of the day, there were very few people about. A young elf was busy sweeping the floor, and nobody else was in sight, except the guards who were always there.
Flare walked toward the courtyard, and concentrated on keeping his story straight. Entering, he noticed two things immediately. The first thing he noticed was that the courtyard was all but deserted. The second thing was that Prince Yolstice was standing to the right of the king. He had not planned on the presence of his uncle. He had hoped to be able to manipulate his grandfather, but Yolstice would only complicate matters. He took a deep breath, and walked to the steps of the dais.
“Flare, you’re a few minutes early. That’s good. Promptness is a good virtue.” The king said quietly, his expression was stern, foreboding. He kept his eyes down.
“Have you reconsidered your conversation from yesterday?” Prince Yolstice asked, his arms across his chest.
“Yes, I have.” Flare said, refusing to even look at his uncle.
“You have!?” Exclaimed the prince, and the king raised his eyes to meet Flare's.
Flare had expected to surprise the king, but he had evidently caught both of them off guard. “Yes grandfather, I will do as you wish and become either a magician or a teacher. And, I would like to apologize to you for the incident that occurred yesterday at lunch.” He then deliberately dropped his eyes.
The king’s face was beaming, “Good, I don’t like arguing with family. I’m glad you have agreed with my wishes.”
Yolstice had recovered from his initial surprise, “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind. I guess we can arrange for you to leave this afternoon. I’ll make the arr...”
“Uh, grandfather.” He had to speak up to interrupt his uncle, “I had hoped that since I’m entering an academy soon, that I could go on a hunting trip. It will be a long time before I can go on another one.” The king’s face was indifferent, but Yolstice’s eyes had narrowed to mere slits. “When my trip is over, I will enter the academy.” Flare held his breath. Interrupting the prince was risky; it could very easily re-anger the king. Fortunately, it appeared he hadn't noticed.
“Well, that appears to be reasonable. Where did you intend to go?” The king asked.
Flare had also anticipated this question, and had prepared for it. This was crucial to his plan, and his stomach did flips as he continued the lie. “I was hoping to go north, and hunt around the Urlist mountain range.” Telur was to the south, so by saying that he wanted to go north, he hoped to turn aside any suspicion. Once again, the surprise was evident on the prince's face, but that was not good in Flare's estimation. If Yolstice was expecting him to want to go south, then perhaps the prince may have already guessed Flare's plan to run for Telur. He reminded himself to be very careful and keep the story straight.
The king considered the request for a moment, and then said. “Well, I will allow you to go on the hunting trip, but you probably shouldn’t go to the mountains. There have been reports of white dragons in that range. Also, I believe that goblins have come down from the north and entered the edge of the eternal forest. Maybe the south would be safer.”
“Well ..” Flare paused. Everything had occurred as he had hoped, except the smug look on Yolstice’s face. ‘Damn,' Flare thought, ‘he’s guessed the whole thing.’ He considered changing the plan, but that was risky. So, he continued on, “I could hunt and fish along the black river.” The black river was far to the south, along the edge of the eternal forest.
“That would be much better, I woul...” the king started to say.
Prince Yolstice interjected, “Father, perhaps a squad of the elven guard could accompany him, since he will be so close to the human territories.”
“That’s probably overdoing it; I have hunted along that river before by myself.” Flare said, getting nervous at his uncle's attempt to thwart his plan.
The king turned toward the prince, “Yolstice, I tend to agree with Flare. I think a squad of the elven guard is way too much.”
“But father. We have been receiving reports of the humans crossing the black river and hunting in the forest edge.” He turned toward Flare, with a sneer on his face. “I would hate for anything to happen to my nephew.”
His uncle's ‘new found affe
ction’ for Flare was winning over his grandfather's opinion. Flare had to think fast. If he was stuck with a whole squad of the elven guard, then he wouldn’t have a chance to get away. “Grandfather, perhaps one guard would be sufficient for the trip.”
“No, I think that ...”, Yolstice started to say, but the king interrupted him.
“Yolstice, I think that one guard will be sufficient. Surely one guard can protect an elf within our own borders.” Feilolas turned back to Flare, “It’s settled. You can have twenty days for your hunting trip, and I will assign a guard to protect you. When are you going to leave?”
“Well, I guess I could leave tomorrow morning.” Flare said, his hopes rising.
“Fine. Fine. Why don’t you meet your escort at the main gate tomorrow, at sunrise.” The king seemed rather pleased. “Flare, I am really glad that you had a change of heart. I do not like being angry at family.”
Flare smiled at how easily his plan had worked. But now the hard part began, he had to carry out the rest of his escape. He bowed low, and said, “Thank you, Grandfather. You don't know how much this means to me.” Turning to leave, it seemed that he could feel the cold emanating from his uncle's stare.
Flare went home and began to pack. He packed several different hunting outfits. The outfits had been nice once, but were rather worn now. The last thing he wanted, was to make himself a target while traveling through human territories. The hunting outfits were green and brown and would help the wearer blend into the forest surroundings.
The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series Page 2