Sayyid, Mephi The Hushite Capitol

  The Emperor's throne room was a grand space, with long cascading silken drapes that lent a regal air to the hallowed chamber. The floors were blanketed with luxurious rugs, atop which rested the Emperor's many concubines. As the doors opened, the Emperor's face contorted in anger at the sight of his son’s figure, home far too soon for his diplomatic mission to be at an end.

  "Oh, Prince of the Hushites, son of a Barbas slave, why have you come to me so soon?"

  "Oh, Great Emperor, chosen by the stars, I return with urgent news."

  "Very well, what is it?"

  "On our journey to Barrus, the Seer and I both witnessed the Thout Miri. The gods call us to war against the Andlo elves and their wickedness."

  "This Seer, where might he be? I would have him attest to this."

  "He is here, oh Great Emperor." Sayyid turned and called the old elf into the throne room.

  "Great Master, Lord of the Sea and Chosen by the night sky, I have witnessed the will of the stars. Thout Miri has called our people"

  The Emperor sat for a moment, thinking. After a time he spoke.

  "No, we shall not go to war...yet."

  "YOU WOULD DA-"

  Two guards who were standing beside the throne leveled their spears at the young prince.

  "You will not take up such a tone with your Master, foolish child of mine. I would dare, and we will go and wipe the heathens away, but first we must prepare. In two years time we shall burn their homes and take their land as the stars command. Until then, you will wait here in the palace while the adults discuss these matters in length."

  Sayyid desperately tried to hide his rage as the Emperor stood, and strode over to him. He had a cruel smile as he observed the young prince, circling him like a predator who had found wounded prey.

  "Do not disobey me oh child, until the time that I have chosen, you are to stay within the palace. You are dismissed now, leave!"

  Sayyid turned on his heel and quickly left the throne room. His fury like a great tempest boiling within him.

  * * *

  Sayyid was pacing a channel into the floor, muttering to himself. The Seer from before sat in a chair, quietly watching the skies through the stone window.

  Sayyid finally stopped and addressed the Seer, "Tell me wise one, what do the gods demand of me?"

  The Seer slowly turned his head and looked upon Sayyid with a knowing gaze.

  He spoke softly, but with great conviction. "The gods demand blood, my Master. They have seen the wickedness of the Andlo elves. Their anger is great and impatient. I shall consult the Seers, my Master"

  Sayyid joined the Seer at the window. "If the gods are impatient..."

  "Yes, we do not wish to anger them."

  "We must take matters into our own hands, Nylept. I will not let another tragedy befall my people."

  Stolen story; please report.

  "Nor shall the Seers Master. Worry not, the gods shall provide for the faithful."

  * * *

  Elric Steward of Barrus, The Keep of Barrus

  Elric stood atop Castle Barrus and surveyed the city below, watching as the last traces of sunlight glinted off the rooftops. Behind him, Conrad cleared his throat to speak as his finely tailored tunic shimmered in the orange light of dusk.

  "My lord steward, there is still no news of the Hushite Prince."

  "We wouldn't be blessed enough that he was eaten by a bear would we?"

  "Hmm, no, that is doubtful my lord. The last report said that he had made it past Fairplain, he should have arrived by now."

  "Perhaps his highness got distracted with their precious stars! I wonder, if we searched the countryside, would we find him and those foul warlocks gazing out upon the night?"

  "Do you really think we might, my lord?"

  "What? No, that wa- ah nevermind Conrad, have you received any word from King Baragrud?"

  "No, lord steward, not yet. Though I expect we should hear from him soon."

  "Very well, leave me Conrad, I wish to enjoy the sunset alone."

  "As you wish my lord." Conrad turned away and briskly strode away.

  * * *

  King Baragrud, Beyond the western Mountians

  The western mountains before Gurabund had taken several days to cross. King Baragrud IIX hadn't expected the orcs to make a run for it, and the horses they rode had been much quicker than the elves' had been. His elves were tired and sore from the long march, which only made things worse. He decided that this would be a good place to stop and rest. After all, the sun was nearly set. He ordered some of his soldiers to break and make camp for the night, and the others were to forage about for food. Rations would need to be preserved as long as possible, as they were now in enemy territory.

  A deafening rumble suddenly erupted from the hills, the drums roaring like an approaching storm. The elves froze, their hearts pounded in their chests as a deep, guttural voice filled the air. One voice became two, and then many, until a mighty chorus of terror echoed around them.

  The chorus ceased abruptly and a heavy silence hung over the camp like a shroud.

  Then came the arrows.

  * * *

  Paul, Somewhere within Barrus

  Paul had been wandering the city for a few hours. He would sometimes find himself going back over the same area. He looked through the city walking what felt like miles, only to not find a trace of the young elf. The sun had nearly completed its descent and the city of Barrus was readying itself for the evening. He was beginning to worry that he may not find his companion. The city was surprisingly large, with many streets and winding alleyways. The young Wystan could be anywhere.

  It wasn't until long after the sun had vanished from the sky and the city had quieted down that Paul decided it was time to go home, and try again tomorrow.

  * * *

  Tomorrow came much more swiftly then Paul expected. Come to learn, searching high and low for someone whom you should have been looking after is very stressful. Doubly so when you have little to no success.

  Unbeknownst to him, and rather ironically as well, he had passed by the dirty little hovel the brothers called home a time or two that very morning before the afternoon buzz began, and found himself there once more.It was at this point in the day that Paul started panicking. First Dallin entrusts his own son’s name to him, and now he loses the one person he was supposed to keep track of. It was overwhelming to say the least, and had he not been terrified of being found by Aldis, he would most likely have lost his composure there in the street. Fortunately, it was around this time when Paul felt his lowest that Wystan decided to go out for a stroll. He walked out into the street and behold, an anxious wreck of a man was in front of him.

  “Aye, Paul! Been awhile eh?” Said Wystan with a smirk.

  Paul whipped around so fast that Wystan thought he might have spun like a top. When he saw the look upon his face, he thought it would have been much better if he had.

  “You son of a bitch! Do you know how long I’ve been searching for you? All over this god forsaken place, all night and all this morning I’ve been trying to find you! What the hell is wrong with you!”

  Paul’s face was quite the shade of red, and it sounded as if he would explode. Wystan hadn’t expected him to be capable of such volume, and yet, here he was, still cursing and yelling and growing ever more red.

  The young elf was much more surprised however when Paul stepped forward, and embraced him in a rather tight hug. Not so tight it broke anything, though, in the moment he thought it might. During this embrace he thought that he heard Paul stifle a sob, though he couldn't tell as he could barely breath and Paul had not yet ceased his beratement. Either way, Wystan could tell that his friend was happy to see him.