Becoming Legend

Chapter 210: Prince Aesril: For the Elves

"What is the meaning of this, Prince Aesril?" Elder Calanye said. Eyes went to Aesril. His robe spoke the true nature of himself: baggy and sagging, uncaring, adorned with the simplest stone the elves could fetch hanging their walls. Yet, kings of generations asked for his guidance. The king before Calathan, and the king before the king asked for his wisdom. But when it comes to Aesril he seemed to soften himself, spoiling him of everything the other elves couldn't have: bloodline magic, knowledge, and wisdom.

Inside his chamber of decaying books, globes of different maps, parcels of human and beast nature alike scattered. This might be the only section of Pin'Tu's chamber with no windows. The only light shining was from a candle on the table. Shadow danced as his breath met the flames. He sat scribing something over his leather parcel while Aesril stood with his hands clasping behind.

The young prince's long and elegant eyebrows flowed like a calm river. His eyes gleamed with orange from the candle. This was Prince Aesril's hardest part of the plan: to keep his face stern and to avoid showing any dishonesty. A twitch of his eyebrow, the rhythm of his breathing, even the fidgeting of his finger were all being read by the Elder; and reading the elder was good at.

"I know my combat wasn't that great like Titus," Prince Aesril noted, "or Gadsi's agility, or Gelethorn's saber mastery. That is why I must go out and train myself, Elder Calanye."

The elder sighed, closed the parcel as he rests the quill under the wooden vase of the candle, and looked at the prince with his gingerly eyes, and said: "I've watched five generations of your family come and go, Prince Aesril." He paused and towered his fingers under his chin. Surprisingly, the only wrinkle the elder had was under his eyes. His skin, as soft as the prince. The only mark that he was an elder was his wrinkles and greying hair. A trait of elves as they age. "I also watched them try to hide something from me. Some have succeeded but mostly failed. Your father failed the lies, and now, look at him, King of Elves."

Prince Aesril's fingers fidgeted behind his back. His eyes faded of excitement, and he sighed. "I'm sorry, Elder Calanye," he said, his eyes meeting the parcel on the chiseled table, unable to meet the Elder's. "The truth is I wanted to go out, explore the outside, and find the Gate that leads us back home."

"Oh, child." The elder indulged. "Just like your mother. She didn't listen to me, not even your father. Now, she's "

"Dead," Prince Aesril said as he reached for the elegant sword hanging his waist. The hilt coiled around his waist as if it has a life of its own. The sword hummed and as the prince rubbed it off his fingers and emotions, the quivering stopped and the hum faded. "I know, Elder Calanye."

"Oh, child," the elder said. "I'm sorry to bring that topic."

"It's fine, Elder," he said. "So, am I unable to outside?"

The elder nodded, century-long hair gleamed with light. "But," he said, pausing. "Hunting is another matter. You might need it as to not look like a decoration, with your mother's sword. How was your magic?"

"Mastered it years ago, Elder," Prince Aesril said with his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Good," the elder said. "Now we need you to train physically. Just because you're the son of the King doesn't mean you can easily pass the swordsmanship training without doing nothing. I'll recommend you to go with the 39th Seedlings to Hunt, you'll be meeting Gazuf as your master and follow him along with other students at the Castle Golag. Remember, prince, I'll be watching you, so don't do harsh things."

For a moment, Prince Aesril's lips curled, and unable to hide his excitements.

"Don't get too excited," the elder said. "I'll be recalling the Hunt if I think something was off."

"Na, Elder Calanye," the prince said and curtsied with his hands over his middle chest. He patted his chest twice and bowed.

The prince left the chamber after another hour of talking. Vines untangled around the half-arc door of the chamber as he passed through it.

Outside, Gelethorn stood with his saber hanging his waist. "How was it, My Prince?" He said.

Prince Aesril nodded and revealed a smile of many accomplishments.

"Prepare," he said. "We'll be leaving after noon."

Gelethorn took a long breath and smiled with his prince. Unable to hide his worry, he shifted face after the prince walked passed him and led the way.

The morning has passed, and the great Tree of Pin'Tu basked in the warmth of the high noon sun. On the horizon, a dark mass of clouds shielded the country of the elves from the outside. Lightning strikes within seconds of an interval, yet no rain has washed the continent. In the North, where the great branch of Pin'Tu hangs the chamber of the King, was a volcano obscured by great darkness, the volcano spews lava and rocks wrapped in flames. A constant thunder and roar reverberated the entire country of the elves.

"Why do we need to hide inside Pin'Tu?" Prince Aesril said as his vision watched the horizon of the North under the window of the moving vines. "Was Pin'Tu not enough that we needed the help of nature to hide us from the outside world?"

"My Prince," Gele said. He was bent on his knees to bow for his prince. "It is for our survival."

"I know, I know," he said. "If only us elves can leave this place, then we don't need to hide. Now I'm not sure anymore what to believe, Gelethorn. Is Elfeinheim, real? Or was it the product of our Elder's imagination to make us feel better? To give us hope, in this cruel and biased world?"

"I believe it is real, My Prince," Gele said. His armor crawling with vine as he looked up at the prince. "My Prince, it's time. We will soon find out if Elfeinheim exists."

"It's time," Aesril muttered. He spun and faced the bowing wood Elf. "Stand up," he said. Then his eyes rested at the stack of books to his right. His bow slung on the wall to his left. And his elegant sword rested beside the chair he loved to sit and read his books. He fiddled the rings on his fingers and pulled them one after the other. Each ring has different purposes, and each was imbued with magic. "Make sure to leave even the ring, Gele."

"Yes, Prince," Gele answered, pulling three of his rings, and handed them to the prince.

"Your saber?"

For a moment, the honest Wood Elf rubbed the hilt of his sword. Then pulled it off his waist and muttered words talking to the saber.

Prince Aesril reached for the saber as Gelethorn handed it to him.

They have left every magical item they had, from rings, to robes, kerchiefs, and weapons. Making sure that none could trace them once they reached the land of humans.

The two left the chamber and proceed to the vine that will descend them to the bottom. The tree has its mechanism to lift and descend the elves that were trying to leave and enter the tree of Pin'Tu. They were in a small chamber held together by vines. Slowly, the vines have reached the bottom with much care. There, they were greeted by Master Gazuf and the 39th Seedlings of Hunting elves.

At the bottom of the Tree of Pin'Tu were grasses and hills farther as the elven eyes could see. Flowers of yellow and lavender danced with life as elves approached them with care. Trees the size of elves were looking like grass underneath Pin'Tu.

Countless vines were ascending and descending every second as elves were readying to Hunt the magical beasts behind the hills that invade them. They knew what awaits them from behind the line of hills. Some hills were high enough to break the bars of the sun but weren't tall enough to stop the invading beasts.

The Seedlings were composed mostly of Wood Elveswho were proficient with bows. And some Dark Elvesdagger and spear they loved.

Prince Aesril counted eight Wood Elves and four dark Elves that would join the Hunt.

Master Gazuf greeted the prince with respect as he patted his chest ten times, while the rest of the elves followed the same.

Prince Aesril dismissed formality and gave a speech, telling them that he and Gele will join the Hunt, as this was the third time Prince Aesril joined a hunt. Like he always does, he only watched the Seedlings battle monsters from behind. It was the lack of his physical strength that gave him timidity to join the Hunt. But it was his overwhelming magical capabilities that made him a monster in the eyes of other elves. Some envied his magic proficiency, others were afraid.

Gele stood behind the prince, he leaned forward and said, "For the elves, My Prince."