It was in the late evening that Thrandul, the old comrade of the captains, entered the room. He finally escorted the party to the council hall.

  The door that led to the hall was huge — at-least five meters tall.

  It was attended to, by two guards-men — beast-men who were almost as tall as Farelen. They had a bulky muscular physique, and appeared to be quite strong.

  The council-hall itself was grand — it gave the impression of a parliament or a senate from Harwin's old world.

  It could fit at least five hundred men easily, but only twenty people were present at the moment.

  Council-men, most influential men of the town, were seated on the mostly empty benches.

  In the middle of it all, an old fellow, who must have been the same age as the village chief, presided over the council proudly. He was fat and weak. It definitely look like he was a corrupt fellow — one should not judge a book by its cover, but in this world, the appearance of a man contributed to his personality as well or so was believed.

  Thrandul stood before the old man and bowed slightly.

  Harwin tried to follow, but was quickly pulled back by Landel who reminded him of their position. The old man was displeased by their reactions especially by Farelen who sat on one of benches immediately, and put his feet on the table before him.

  Viyetral, of-course, had explained to him that they should not antagonize these men, but he never listened to anyone except for Graftel himself.

  “These men here, have arrived from the northern great-forest. They are the chosen representative of the chief-commander of the elfin empire — the sword-saint, Graftel. They have brought direct orders from the chief-commander.” Thrandul introduced them.

  “Graftel, is that man even alive? He never even cared to come to this town. Can we really trust these men?” One of the men occupying one of the many benches questioned.

  He was middle-aged man with whiskers. He was bald, and had a soft, feeble body. Infact, most the council-men shared these features.

  “I can assure you that the sword-saint Graftel is alive, and you should address him in a manner appropriate to his status. As for our trustworthiness, I am sure Thrandul here could verify our identities.” Viyetral replied.

  “These are my fellow men. They are captains from the northern village. This man sitting here is 'The Giant' Farelen — the same man who had defeated the beast-men army in the human-elfin war. The man who is standing is Viyetral. He had led many successful raids, and even laid a successful siege to the town of “Jecorl” — the human town which was the central hub for smithing weapons. You can take my word for it that they are the most trusted men of the sword-saint.” Thrandul explained.

  “Very well. I am Quintel, and these are my fellow council-men. We have all gathered here, and taken time out of our busy lives to listen to you. You should start telling us regarding the sword-saint's orders without wasting anymore time," the old man in the middle demanded with a frown.

  “The sword-saint has chosen his successor and given the ancient title 'Heir of the Woods' to this man here.”

  Landel steppd forward as Viyetral mentioned him. The captain continued:

  “He is on the journey to get recognized by the leaders of all the great-forests and the elfin settlements. That is the reason that we are here first.”

  All of the council men were shocked at first, but then a sudden burst of laughter followed. The old man also smirked at this demand and then said:

  “You have come here without the sword-saint, and state such ridiculous things. What are we to make of these statements of yours? Should we bend our knee to a boy?”

  “He is the most skilled elf swordsman after the sword-saint himself. As much as I hate to admit it, but he is even more powerful than some of the captains as well. He has all the items of regalia. Landel, step forward and show them what the sword-saint has given you.” Viyetral instructed Landel.

  He followed through without a moment of delay, and first unsheathed the dagger. He then raised his hand above his head to show them the ring that was given to him by Graftel as well.

  All of the old folk wore frowns upon their faces as they, indeed, recognizd these items. Finally a letter was read aloud by Viyetral which had the seal of the sword-saint himself:

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  “I, sword-saint, chief-commander and leader of the elfin forces throughout this continent, Graftel, hereby name this man, Landel, son of Lief, as my successor and heir to all my holdings and power." Viyetral paused, but continued once he saw the defeated expressions of Quintel:

  "He shall henceforth be known as 'Heir of the Woods'. His words shall be heard, and abided to by as if were said by myself. He shall be my representative in my absence, and shall have the final say in matters that involve my presence. Any elfin man, woman, or even child who does not recognize his claim shall be declared an enemy to the race. If anyone wants to challenge his legitimacy, and consider themselves as the better choice for this position, may challenge him or myself in combat. If my successor, Landel, denies any challenge then the said challenger shall come to me, and I shall follow through with the fight. Any chieftain or council-man who does not recognize his authority, and my decision in choosing him will be declared a traitor to the elfin race.”

  The letter was then handed over to the Thrandul to verify its authenticity. He soon gave his assent as well.

  The hall was quiet now. The laughter had turned into a dreadful silence. All that was left were annoyed, and furious council-men who whispered among themselves. Finally Quintel, the old man, spoke:

  “These items are indeed authentic, and the letter’s contents are original as well, thus we have the option to challenge the chosen successor. We shall give you a worthy opponent by tomorrow, but till then I adjourn this council. Do stay in the council building as our guests tonight.”

  “What of Uytral? He had gone to the northern village as well. He was supposed to meet the sword-saint to discuss our concerns!” one of the council man, a tall shrewd-looking elf yelled.

  “He was giving a very important task by the sword-saint himself that only he could have carried. He will be visiting the towns surrounding the northern forest to meet various leaders, as we need to rally up support from our strong neighbors. A person with the diplomatic skills of Uytral was much needed there."

  Viyetral stopped as if pondering over something, but soon stated:

  "His son, Grantal, was sent in his place. He has been informed by his father about all the tasks he must accomplish, but he has been injured during our journey. A wyvern attacked us, which he could testify as well. We were able to save his life by reaching one of the dwarven settlements otherwise he might have not made it.” Viyetral explained.

  All the council men stared with dubious looks, but quickly turned fearful once Farelen stood up — towering over even Quiental who was sitting on the high-bench.

  The council-men were hardly warriors themselves, and had heard the reputation of the giant — of his ruthlessness and ferocity so they did not dare to question any further. The council was finally adjourned.

  It was almost time for dusk. Thrandul was taken abit away from the council building by Harwin's party. Viyetral spoke with him in a direct manner:

  “Who do you think these old fools will choose?”

  “I believe, it will he a young man by the name of Arlone. He is from the lineage of Lirael. A promising young man. He even defeated me in single combat last year, but before that what is the meaning of all this? Why has the sword-saint chosen a successor? Surely he has not sccumbed to any illness?” Thrandul asked with a concerned look.

  “No, no. This boy, Landel, was trained by the commander himself. The sword-saint believes that Landel is a prodigy who can even surpass even him someday. There was no one more worthy present, and the commander had no actual heirs so this lad was the natural choice.”

  Viyetral held back few important bits for some reason.

  “Well that is a hasty decision, but his judgement has never proven wrong before. Now then, shall we drink tonight? You can stay at my place if you do not trust the council.” Thrandul offered.

  “No drinks. We need to plan regarding the challenge tomorrow. We will, however, accept your offer to stay at your place. I believe these council-men are quite under-handed, and could do anything to win.”

  Soon they made their way towards the house of their old comrade.

  It was outside of the council halls land. It was built near an inn. The house itself was not anything lavish, but just a plain, ordinary one.

  Once they entered it, they found an elfn lady waiting by the door who was surprised by the sudden visitors, but did not lose her composure.

  In terms of human age, she would have been around thirty. Of-course, she had the usual beauty and elegance of the elves. Her hair, however, did not have any tint of green so she was obviously a half. She had blue eyes like the clear sky.

  “Leilth. These are Farelen, Viyetral and few of their comrades. They are here to visit us. You remember the same Farelen who defeated the beast-men, the subordinate of the sword saint himself.”

  “Yes I remember quite clearly. Any followers of the sword-saint are more than welcome to stay at our home. Dear, please take them to the guest-room. I will prepare a few dishes and drinks.” Leilth said with a cheerful smile.

  “Wait just a moment. Everyone, this here is my beautiful wife, Leilth.”

  Thrandul introduced his wife as well, but his statement only brought color to her face — obviously flustered by the declaration.

  Leilth then made her way to the kitchen. Alisa wanted to help, but unlike in the dwarven settlement, she was not invited by the lady of the house — mainly because she was hiding behind the crowd.

  “She is just shy. Anyways let me take you to the guest room.”

  They were suddenly stopped again in their course. This time by two children — one boy and the other a girl.

  The boy was around six and the girl around eight. Both were as cute as bunnies. They also had the usual features of the wood-elves, but the girl had heterochromia — one of her iris was like an emerald whilst the other sky blue. It made her stand out amongst the two.

  “Oh, look who we have here. Come here you two.”

  Thrandul lifted each of them on his shoulders. The children giggled. It was clear that this man was a loving husband and father — rather troublesome thing for a captain.

  “These here are my children. This little rascal is Eremil, and this little lady is Elanor. These here are my friends. What do you say to daddy's friends?”

  Thrandul looked at the both of them, but they did not reply rather hid in their father's arms.

  It was a joyful moment yet Viyetral was a-bit distant from it all. He did not appear to be mentally present in the room. His expressions were grim. He was staring toward his old comrade, Thrandul, with pitiful eyes. What caused this, would only be revealed later...