So this is how things work?
Well, Dante wasn't worried, but... Perhaps... Some people of great stature were a bit desperate...
His throne was ancient, perhaps it could be called rustic, forged in metal and amber-lit purple, carved with calm and grace.
"Are you sure you're going to this meeting, Father?" A dwarf questioned the King, the one who clearly knew his father well.
"Clovis, don't give me that... You gave up on chasing that boy, and now you don't want to go see him? You still have that spear to deliver to him, you know?" Baskev said, smiling at his son, who turned away.
"I gave up because it wasn't good enough." He commented.
Baskev let out a low laugh, echoing through the hall.
"You've always been a perfectionist, Clovis," Baskev remarked, his voice carrying a mix of pride and exasperation. "But I expected more from you in this case. The boy, Dante... he's not someone who can be ignored or brushed aside so easily."
Clovis turned his face away, clearly bothered by the mention of Dante. "It's not a matter of ignoring him, father. I just don't believe she's worthy of that guy... yet," he responded, his tone cold, but there was an undercurrent of insecurity that Baskev didn't miss.
The king leaned slightly in his throne, his eyes fixed on his son. "You're worried about what she might do, aren't you? Don't be foolish, that spear is too versatile."
Clovis didn't respond immediately.
He knew his father had a knack for reading between the lines, for sensing what others preferred to hide.
But at that moment, he wasn't ready to admit what really troubled him.
"Father, this meeting... do you really think it's the right time? With everything that's happening?" Clovis changed the subject, trying to divert the focus from himself.
Baskev watched him for a moment before speaking again. "The circumstances are complicated, yes. But that's exactly why I need to go. We can't just hide in our own kingdoms and hope things resolve themselves. The world is changing, my son..."
Clovis sighed, feeling the weight of his father's words.
He knew there was more at stake than just a meeting, more than just a simple exchange of information or political negotiations. There were forces at play, forces that could change the fate of them all.
"Let's get ready." Clovis said, and Baskev smiled at him, "You better deliver that spear to him." He commented.
Elowyn sighed, feeling the growing pressure of always being under her mother's watchful gaze. Aewyn had always been demanding, with high standards for everything and everyone around her—especially for her daughter, who inherited the throne.
"I'm not a child anymore," Elowyn murmured, her eyes fixed on the vast landscape beyond the windows of the hall. "I'm in charge now, and I need to make decisions on my own."
Aewyn tilted her head, watching her daughter with a mix of pride and concern. "That's exactly why I'm here," she said. "You are about to deal with something none of us have faced before."
"I know that," Elowyn replied, her tone hardening slightly. "But I also know that I cannot escape. Not from the responsibility I carry."
She placed a gentle hand on Elowyn's shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. "You are strong, my daughter. And you knew this day would come. But remember... there is no shame in seeking help, even from me."
Elowyn looked at her mother, seeing the weight of years and battles in her eyes. "I will handle this, Mother," she said with calm determination. "And I will do it my way."
Aewyn nodded slowly, withdrawing her hand and stepping back. "Then, I will be here, watching... but this time, I will go with you to the meeting. Even though I am the former queen, I am still the highest elite of the Kingdom." She gave a small smile, both sad and proud. "Do not forget that, even as a queen, you are still my daughter. And I will always be by your side, even if you do not see me."
Elowyn gave a small smile in response, a rarity amid her responsibilities. "Thank you, Mother. I know."
...
Velkan surveyed the army before him, his eyes as hard as stone, reflecting the gravity of the situation. "Prepare yourselves," he commanded, his voice reverberating across the field. "Secure the entire perimeter. I don't want a single rogue wolf within a thousand meters of me until I return." His expression showed no fear, only relentless determination.
"We are at war, and that wretched one will not be called, so we are vulnerable."
Beside him, Fenrir smiled, but it was a smile that concealed more than it revealed. Her loyalty to Velkan seemed unquestionable, but behind that smile was a mind working incessantly, calculating and re-evaluating every move. She was eager for what was to come, though not for the reasons anyone else might imagine.
"It's going to be an interesting meeting," Fenrir murmured, almost to herself. Her words were drowned out by the noise of the army in motion, but Velkan heard them and gave her a brief sidelong glance, noting the excitement that emanated from his ally.
"Interesting isn't the word I'd use," he said, his tone dry but alert.
Fenrir merely chuckled softly, her hand resting on the hilt of the sword at her waist. "Oh, Velkan, you know as well as I do that these meetings are always more than just politics. They are power games, and no one plays that game better than I do."
"Power games can cost lives," Velkan warned, his voice carrying an implicit caution. He knew Fenrir well enough to understand that her loyalty was always a matter of convenience.
"And that's exactly why I'm eager to see how everyone will behave." Fenrir moved a bit closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that only Velkan could hear. "But don't worry, dear... My loyalty to you is as strong as any oath."
"I'll be back soon," Velkan said, shifting his focus. "Keep everything under control until then."